


Five Beautiful Boys

by SaskiaK



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kidnapping, M/M, Theft, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaskiaK/pseuds/SaskiaK
Summary: Gerard is an assistant bank manager, looking forward to his brother's visit but when his boss goes into the hospital, Gerard has to cancel his vacation just as Mikey comes to stay. He thinks his week can't get much worse. Enter Frank Iero, bank robber...  Chapter 20 posted! - The End





	1. Gerard Meets Frank

Gerard sighed as he slid behind the desk in the large office, a large mug steaming with freshly made coffee clutched in his hand. Already his workload was piling up and it was only eight o’ clock. He had left Mikey sleeping, well, to be exact, he had left him snoring. The change of bed didn’t seem to have kept him from getting a good night’s sleep, but that might be partly due to the six pack they had each polished off. Mikey had arrived two days earlier, pleased merely to get the break. Anything would do, just so long as he wasn’t at home. Having recently split up with his girlfriend of three years, he had sought sanctuary with his older brother. Gerard had welcomed him readily but as yet, the brothers had had little opportunity to spend time together. Things weren’t going particularly well for Gerard either, but he wouldn’t dream of telling Mikey right now as he felt that his own problems paled into insignificance next to his brother’s.

What was wrong? His job. It should have been rewarding and interesting, but it wasn’t; it wasn’t even close. Yes, he had worked hard in school and obtained a good, solid well paid job with prospects. And yes, he knew that if he hadn’t tried hard at school he would be in a low paid job with no prospects at all. He knew he should be happy but he still felt restless and bored.

The truth was, he hadn’t known what he wanted to do when he was younger. His Careers Counsellor in high school was at a loss to know what to say to him. Gerard had been a bright pupil, getting mostly straight A’s but he had no actual interest in any of his academic subjects. He felt that there was something he hadn’t contemplated yet; something that was out there, ready for him to try and make a difference. His Careers Counsellor had finally given up and told him that he was deluding himself. So much for believing in yourself! It wasn’t worth pondering. He had had no idea what to do, and had finally drifted into banking through an internship that he had taken merely because he fancied a girl who had once worked there. That was, oh, too long ago. Despite his lack of interest, he had applied himself and had again been successful. Gerard found himself being rapidly promoted and now, as assistant manager, he was temporarily in charge.

Glancing at his diary for the day, he noticed that his very first appointment was with someone whose name could not be found on bank records. He was claiming to be making a large withdrawal – it could only mean one thing to Gerard – the sheer unbridled excitement of a company account fund transfer. Joy!

By nine, and three coffees later, Gerard had, surprisingly, caught up with much of his paperwork and was ready to welcome his client.

“Good morning!” The young man in his early thirties with black hair, rose to his feet and extended his hand towards the newcomer to his office. “Please, take a seat. My name’s Gerard Way, I’m the assistant manager. How can I help you?”  
“Frank Iero,” came the reply as the shorter man, immaculately dressed in a black suit, with a dark blue shirt and tie took the proffered hand in a firm shake.  
“How can I help you, Mister Iero?” Gerard asked as the man sat opposite him.  
“I’ll be making a large withdrawal,” he explained.  
“A company withdrawal?” Gerard asked, remembering that he had been unable to find Iero’s name on the database.  
“No, personal,” Frank corrected.

Gerard smiled and nodded. It was his bank’s policy that single transactions sums of money over ten thousand dollars were to be dealt with by the manager or his assistant in his absence. The practice was a frequent event for companies, but for individuals was uncommon, but by no means out of the ordinary. It was possible that he had made a mistake about the man’s account and continued with the formalities.

“I’ll need account details, two sets of photo ID and proof of address, Mister Iero.”

Frank nodded with a brief smile and reached underneath the desk where his briefcase stood. As he did so, the phone rang on Way’s desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gerard frowned. “I’ll get my secretary to take that.”  
“No need,” Iero replied quickly before looking up and flashing a smile. “You take it, it could be important and I still have to find one of the IDs.”

Way smiled with relief. It was only his second day as acting manager and already work was piling up. The problem being, of course, that while he was acting as manager, he had all his own work to do too. Normally this sort of thing wasn’t a problem, as whenever vacations had been planned, a second assistant would be available to take some of the workload. But this had been different and very much unplanned. They didn’t know much of the details, but had been told the previous day that the branch manager had been involved in a car accident and had been so severely injured that he would most likely remain in hospital for a minimum of two weeks. Gerard had remembered receiving the news with a guilty mixture of worry and irritation. Despite his concern for his manager’s obviously severe injuries, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Of course, now because of the accident, Gerard had been forced to cancel his vacation on the very day that his brother had arrived on his doorstep. For his own sake, Mikey hadn’t minded too much. The split with his girlfriend had been a fairly amicable one and all he really wanted was to get as far from his apartment as he could while she moved out. Staying at his brother’s place may not have been what they had planned, but it was a break and that was enough for him. Reaching for the phone, Gerard hoped the day would pass quickly; he was already tired.

“Good morning,” Gerard began as cheerfully as he could muster. “How can I help you?”

There was a slight pause before the voice on the end of the phone began. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but the hesitation unnerved him.

“The man sitting opposite you,” the voice began, “has a gun trained on you beneath the desk.”

Still holding the phone to his ear, Gerard’s head turned sharply to stare at Frank Iero, who merely smiled sweetly at him in return. The voice continued:

“The gun is fitted with a silencer, if you give him any cause to use it, no one will be aware. Place your hand not holding the phone in full view on the desk and spread your fingers. After I hang up, place your other hand in a similar position next to it. Do you understand?”  
“Y… yeah,” Gerard croaked as his mouth and throat instantly dried.  
“Good. I’ll leave you with my friend to conclude business.”

Gerard slowly lowered the receiver onto the cradle and stared disbelievingly at the man opposite.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice barely recovered from the shock.  
“We’re going to need your help getting into the bank, some keys, security codes, that sort of thing.”  
“I can’t give you that,” he shook his head. “And really, you can’t force me. Okay, you have a gun on me now, but you will have to leave here at some point.”

Frank continued to smile. He had the look of a man who knew when he had his opponent over a barrel.

“The gun is merely to make you sit still and understand that we’re serious. The real incentive for you to help is here.”

Frank raised his left hand and passed a large envelope to Gerard. Hesitantly, Gerard took it and fumbled with the flap. Eventually opening the stiff card envelope, he glanced inside to see a single sheet of letter sized photo paper. Withdrawing the sheet, he gasped with a combination of horror and shock as he saw the photograph.  
On it, his brother lay on a thin, grubby mattress. Clear in the photo, Mikey’s slender ankles were fastened together with a pair of handcuffs; his hands, pulled behind him, were probably secured in the same fashion. Mikey’s cheek and right eye were bruised and swollen, and, Gerard suspected there might be further injuries hidden from view. His eyes were closed and it seemed that Mikey was unconscious, making the gag, consisting of a long knotted cloth tied at the nape of his neck, seem more for dramatic purposes than of any real use.

Gerard fell into a stunned silence, simply unable to accept or even grasp the enormity of the situation. He found it impossible to do anything but to stare back in shameless bewilderment – it was exactly the reaction Frank had anticipated.

“I’m sure you’ll appreciate why your cooperation is essential now,” Frank grinned at him.


	2. Frank makes his demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank is quite confident of Gerard's cooperation

Gerard paled and his breathing hitched as a thousand and one thoughts raced through his mind without any of them waiting long enough to be spoken out loud. Confused and scared, he merely continued to stare; occasionally turning is eyes between the photo of Mikey and the man who had taken him. Slowly, anger replaced shock and his breathing became loud and shallow as his jaw clenched along with his fists.

“If you’re thinking what I think you are,” Iero warned, “remember I have a gun on you.”

  
Gerard’s eyes closed as he took in the words and he released his anger in a frustrated sigh.

  
“How…? Why…?” Gerard stammered. “He’s… how did you…?”  
“Pull it together, Way!” Frank snapped harshly. “We need you to behave normally from now on. Business as usual. Got that?”

  
Gerard forcefully calmed himself. There were so many questions he needed to ask and the only way he would get answers would be by Iero’s rules.

  
“Why Mikey?”

  
Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  
“How else could we force you?”  
“But… this meeting… you wouldn’t normally be speaking to me. It would be…”  
“The manager?” Frank smiled slyly, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up once more as he again sensed the power he exerted over the dumbstruck assistant manager. “He had… an accident. Not entirely coincidental.”  
“You nearly killed him!” Gerard gasped.

  
Frank’s expression hardened.

  
“He got off lightly,” he narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward menacingly. “Do as you’re told and you and your brother will live.”

  
Gerard inhaled deeply as he took in the words. Glancing at the photograph, he nodded bleakly, unable now to even look Iero in the eyes.

  
“I’ll be in touch,” Frank snatched the photo from Gerard’s hands and shoved it back into his briefcase with the gun as he rose from his seat. “Remember, Way, we have your brother, and of course, we know where you live. Do as you’re told and you’ll both live.”  
“Wait!” Gerard cried as Frank rose from his seat. “What do I do?”  
“Nothing until you’re told to,” Frank growled, “understand? You wait to hear from me again and you give nothing away to anyone. If you do, you know what’ll happen to your brother.”  
“Don’t hurt him,” Gerard pleaded.  
“Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?” Frank replied with a smirk.

This had gone better than he had hoped for. His information had told him that Gerard and his brother, Mikey, were close, but Gerard’s reaction had more than confirmed this. He seemed genuinely terrified. It was exactly what he wanted. The only possible drawback was that he wouldn’t be able to pretend that everything was normal. Questions couldn’t be asked. Frank decided he would have to keep a very close watch on him.

“Business as usual, Way,” Frank warned as he reached the door. “I’m having you watched, so don’t try anything heroic or Mikey’ll pay for it. Got it?”

Gerard stared at the mountain of paperwork in the cabinet behind his desk, at the screen full of e-mails building up as each minute passed. None of it was important any more. Not one single damn thing in that room was important! He wanted to scream, to push his desk over, to pick up his computer and throw it out the window. This job, this damn job that he had always hated was now instrumental in his brother’s life being threatened. But he could do nothing, say nothing, he could only act as if everything were perfectly normal. It was going to kill him.

*

The room was lit just well enough to see. With no natural light and little ventilation, the basement room was musty and warm.From the years of dust gathered in the corners and the boxes piles up against the walls, it seemed as though it had never been used for anything other than storage. Today was no different, but the room now held something it had probably never had before – a hostage.

  
Mikey opened his eyes slowly, but only his left eye cooperated. The slightest of movements in his eyes or cheek caused an explosion of pain and he quickly closed them again. He felt the cloth pulled tight behind his neck and the heavily knotted section sunk deep into his mouth, drying his tongue and making him feel nauseous. It wasn’t long before he realised that both his hands and bare feet were handcuffed and whatever he was lying on offered little comfort. The flashback from only a few hours earlier flooded his mind.

_“See you tonight, Mikey!” Gerard called as he closed the door behind him.  
“Uhnn,” Mikey replied incoherently as he pulled the covers over his head._

_The pair had been drinking the night before and even though it had only been six beers, Mikey felt terrible. Perhaps it had been the lack of sleep prior to arriving at Gerard’s place, or perhaps it was the half bottle of vodka he had downed after he had headed for bed? He wanted to blame the lack of sleep but he knew he couldn’t seriously do that. The break up had hit him harder than he had cared to admit, even to himself. His girlfriend of three years had been unfaithful to him for the previous eight months. Why hadn’t she left him? He was her meal ticket. The other guy was an artist-type; high on drama, low on cash. He had told Gerard it was an amicable break up and he wanted space while she moved out. That wasn’t it at all. She had laughed in his face when he finally found out. Amused that he couldn’t see what was under his very nose, that his sight correction had left him as blind as ever he was before. He had been played for a fool and he felt it bitterly._

_Suffering a hangover, his head did not appreciate the hammering at the door only five minutes after Gerard had left. Had he forgotten his keys or something?_  
Pulling on a pair of pants and a t-shirt, Mikey headed for the door and opened it expecting to see his brother. What actually happened was the last thing he could have expected.  
He caught a fleeting glance of a tall, broad blond man as the door was pushed back hard into him. Staggering backwards, almost falling off balance, Mikey looked up sharply, suddenly very awake.

_“Who the fuck are you?” he shouted, but his only reply was a powerful blow that connected with his abdomen, winding him instantly._

_Doubled over and gasping for breath, Mikey felt hand crash sharply down at the base of his neck. The pain was overwhelming and his knees buckled instantly. As he fell, his head caught the side of a small table and he slipped to the floor lying on his side, barely conscious and groaning softly. The assailant grabbed a handful of hair and pulled him upright, landing a vicious sweeping back-handed blow to his cheek and temple. After that, Mikey was silent._

Now he had woken here, wherever that was. Handcuffed and still in a lot of pain, Mikey didn’t mind admitting to himself that he was scared. He had no way of knowing why he had been taken or by whom. Neither was he entirely sure he wanted to meet the man who had done this to ask.

*

In another room with the drapes closed, Ray Toro took a long draw on his cigarette as he cast a discerning eye over the blueprints spread out on the table. Concentrating hard on the detail, he pulled a pen from behind his ear, half hidden by the mop of tight curls and, pulling a notebook closer, jotted a few more notes to the already full page.  
Sitting back in his seat, he took another long draw on the cigarette and blew out the smoke with an air of satisfaction. Glancing up as the door opened, he nodded to the man silhouetted in the doorway.

“How can you sit in here?” The new arrival grumbled with a cough as he entered the room.  
“What?” Ray smirked as the other man waved aside the thick choking blanket hanging in the air. “You smoke.”

At the flick of a switch the hum of an extractor fan kicked into action and the sound almost dominated the small space.

“And that’s why, Frank,” Ray tilted his head to one side and frowned. “How can I concentrate with that racket?”

  
Frank lowered his eyes towards the now closed notebook.

  
“You’re finished?” he asked.  
“Of course!” Ray replied with a smug grin. “I told you two hours.”  
“Okay, so what’s the verdict?”  
“Oh, guilty,” he grinned, “definitely guilty.”  
“Ray!” Frank scowled at his flippancy.  
“Frank,” Ray began, folding his arms, “have I ever let you down?”

Frank grinned. He, Ray and Bob had pulled off some quite sensational robberies: banks, mansions, galleries, it didn’t matter, whatever they had attempted, they had been successful. The police were always baffled. Their thefts were always so meticulously planned and carried out that there were never any clues leading back to the trio.

“No, Ray,” Frank conceded. “You’ve never let me down. But this is bigger. I know you can handle the security, but I haven’t been able to get any plans, keys or codes because they change on a daily basis. This time we have to bring in an outsider.”  
“I’m not at all comfortable with that, Frank. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this bank. Money’s money, they’ve all got it, why this one?”  
“Because this one is currently housing the jewel collection of King Louis the Fourteenth of France before it goes on display. The richest king of France, the Sun King himself.”  
“You’re kidding!” Ray gasped, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and excitement.  
“Oh no!” Frank grinned. “I never joke about money. I even have a buyer already. We are going to be multi-millionaires, Ray.”

  
Ray couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face but he tried to look serious.

  
“But this guy? Can he be trusted?”  
“Oh, I think so,” Frank nodded. “Have you not been downstairs? We have a visitor.”  
“Bob’s been busy?” Ray asked with a grin.  
Frank nodded. “We have the assistant manager’s brother. He’s in our pocket. We’re as good as counting the money!”


	3. Those Eyes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, is Frank falling for his hostage?

“Where’s Bob?” Ray asked as he folded the blueprints carefully.

  
Frank put a cigarette to his lips and lit it, drawing on the nicotine with a satisfied smile. Tipping another from the pack, he offered it to Ray.

  
“Thanks,” he muttered, looking expectantly at Frank while he reached for his lighter.  
“Bob’s out meeting an old army buddy; getting equipped for the job. Apparently the vault isn’t the only problem. The jewels are in a mini vault inside the main one, but blowing the door is likely to damage the contents and we just can’t risk it.”  
“So what’s he getting?”  
“Some sort of hi-tech device, experimental apparently,” Frank shrugged.  
“Experimental in that it might not work?” Ray replied, his eyes widening at the idea and surprised that Frank seemed to think it an acceptable risk.  
“Oh, no!” Frank laughed. “Not that experimental. It works all right, just not in manufacture yet.”  
“Won’t the army miss it if there’s only one of them?”  
“We have a two day window,” Frank explained. “It’s finished trials and is about to go into discussion for production. The manufacturer can’t meet with the army for another two days, so, it’s going into storage. The theory is, no one’s going to be looking for it for two days.”  
“That theory has to hold.”  
“Even if it doesn’t, they won’t know where it is and they’re hardly going to announce to the press that they’ve mislaid a multi-million dollar investment, are they?”

Ray smiled; it seemed as though Frank had thought of everything. But then, that was Frank’s chief role in the team. Frank was the planner; detail was his strength and he played to it perfectly.

Frank Iero had met Ray Toro and Bob Bryar in prison. At the time, the trio were all small time crooks; their biggest mistake being that they had both extended themselves beyond their areas of expertise and had been caught. Frank could see the bigger picture, he would choose the target and carefully orchestrate the operation. The attention to detail he managed had always astonished his two companions, but they had their own special talents. Each of them were aware of the unique and vital roles they all played and knew that they depended upon each other heavily. Another of Frank’s roles was as fence to the stolen goods. His contacts were seemingly innumerable, positioned worldwide and above all, very discreet. There was always a market for the proceeds of their thefts and their wealthy customers wanted their identities kept secret as much as the trio.

Ray Toro’s speciality was electronics. Having trained both as an electrical engineer and computer programmer, Ray had found he possessed a natural affinity for all manner of complex circuitry and mechanics. With his talents, he had secured himself what he had hoped would be a job with good prospects but despite his obvious abilities, his lack of a college education appeared to give his employers the excuse they needed to continue to pay him poorly and overlook him for promotion. Toro found himself in the exasperating position of having to train less experienced and less able co-workers to perform jobs that, by rights, should be his. He fumed with frustration as talentless idiots on twice his salary had to be constantly bailed out by him. Many were the occasions when he would work late into the night to fix a project that had been bungled by one of the team he worked in. It was during one of these late lights that Ray Toro decided he should be remunerated properly, even if he had to do it himself. Hacking into the accounting system, the young engineer began siphoning off company funds. Just small amounts – he would never describe himself as greedy – Toro was able to raise his salary to an amount that he considered fair for the work he did. Finally, an amount he could actually live on in reasonable comfort. And so his existence continued for almost two and a half years only to be interrupted by the discovery of his thefts when the company installed a new accounting software package. Ironically, Toro would normally have been involved in installing the new software and would have been able to cover his tracks easily, but he was away on vacation when the discovery was made. Arrested and brought to trial, Toro was sentenced to three years.

Far from teaching Ray the error of his ways and putting him on the straight and narrow, prison had formed a partnership that would make Ray a very wealthy man. Now with Ray handling the computers and alarm systems, Bob with his army training in explosives and weaponry and Frank’s meticulous attention to detail, the three men had formed a formidable and successful partnership.

“What now?” asked Ray drawing on his cigarette.  
“I think you should meet our visitor, he should be awake now and then we can discuss our plans with his brother.”

*

Mikey looked up as the door at the top of the stairs opened and he saw two figures descending.

  
“Look who’s awake!” Frank grinned.

  
He and Ray stood only a couple of feet from their captive looking down with superior smiles.

  
“I guess you’re wondering why you’re here?” Frank asked, giving nothing away.

  
From his position on the thin mattress, Mikey stared up, fearful and not recognising either man as his attacker. Frank dropped to one knee next to Mikey and removed the gag. Mikey remained silent, too scared even to make a sound. Smiling wickedly, Frank played with his captive's hair before drawing the index finger of his right hand across Mikey’s lips. With a slight smirk, Frank pushed his left hand between Mikey’s thighs.

  
“You’re going to be our sex slave.” He spoke calmly but with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  
“Get your fucking hands off me!” Mikey screamed pulling away from him.

  
Frank stood up, laughing uproariously at Mikey’s reaction.

  
“You’re here to make your brother help us get what we want and we want the contents of the bank’s vaults.”  
“You…” Mikey stared up. “You’re bank robbers?”  
“Congratulations!” Frank smirked. “I can see that intelligence runs in the family.”  
“Are you going to let me go?” Mikey asked. His voice dropped almost to a whisper.

  
The question was a simple one and one anyone would reasonably ask, but Mikey’s phrasing, full of fear, somehow made Frank feel suddenly and inexplicably guilty.

  
“Yeah,” he nodded. “When we have what we want, we’ll let you go.”  
Frowning Frank tapped Ray’s arm.  
“Let’s go.”

At the top of the stairs with the door closed, Ray turned to Frank.

  
“You’re going to let him go? He’s seen us!”  
“No,” Frank shook his head, “of course I’m not. Not him, or his brother. But did you see him? Those eyes? If you can tell him, you do it!”  
“We stick to our areas, that’s what you said. Computers and security, that’s me. You do the planning.”  
“Yeah, well I did the planning. But as it turns out, kidnapping is out of my area too! We’ll be okay. I’m just saying whatever feels right. We’ll stick to our areas, don’t worry.”  
“And him?”  
“Bob said he could handle it, we’ll be fine.” Frank took a deep breath. “Now, come on we have things to do.”

*

Gerard turned the key in his apartment door. It had been a wearing and trying day and he was exhausted. In itself, the work hadn’t been difficult; he doubted he had actually done that much and what he had done was probably completed all wrong.

Unsurprisingly, his mind had been preoccupied. That morning he had been confronted by what seemed to be the head of a gang of bank robbers, a gun had been held on him, he had been threatened and, worst of all, he had discovered that his brother, Mikey, had been kidnapped and was being held hostage to ensure his cooperation. He didn’t dare cross them. He had no doubt in his mind that they would carry out their threats; they had already proved their disregard for life. In a terrifying revelation, the man he supposed was their leader, Frank Iero, had revealed that they were responsible for the severe injuries inflicted upon the bank manager. They had caused his accident solely to be certain that they would deal direct with Gerard, the assistant manager. Iero didn’t seem to care that the manager had almost died in the car crash. In fact, he had suggested quite the opposite; leaving Gerard with the distinct impression that the manager’s death had been their real intention. Gerard couldn’t risk them hurting Mikey; he had no choice; he had to help them.

The more he thought about it the more Gerard flushed with a mixture of fear and anger as he realised how long they must have been watching him, waiting to make their move. Now, as he opened the door to the darkened apartment, he thought again about his brother and what he might be suffering. They were violent and ruthless and, he sighed helplessly, they had Mikey.

Closing the door behind him, he threw his keys on the table and slipped off his coat. Turning to switch on the light and with his hand within inches of the wall, Gerard was pulled sharply back by an unseen assailant. A hand covered his mouth, trying unsuccessfully to prevent the loud cry that immediately burst forth from his lips. With his mouth already open, one or two of the man’s fingers slid between his teeth and Gerard snapped his mouth shut. With a yelp, his attacker, pulled back, wrenching his hand free before smacking his palm viciously against Gerard’s forehead with a force borne of a combination of anger and frustration. Gerard staggered, his back hitting the wall as he gathered his senses. The pain of the bite seemed to have weakened the man’s grasp on Gerard’s arm and, taking advantage of the loosening of the man’s grip, Gerard strained against him, clawing at his fingertips in a desperate attempt to free himself. With his concentration fully on the man holding him, Gerard failed to notice the second man approach from the right, but it didn’t take much for him to get Gerard’s attention.

The pain was excruciating and seemed to permeate every last fibre of his body. His head spun, spots of bright light danced before his eyes and all his remaining senses were dulled. Sinking to his knees, Gerard groaned in agony as he held his crotch with one hand and supported his weight with the other, his palm flat on the floor as he gasped for breath. Finally losing the last of his strength as the crushing pain sank into his abdomen, he slipped to his right, to lie on the floor curled in a position of both protection and submission.

Switching the light on, Frank Iero smirked down at the crumpled form on front of him. He had never been interested in sports, but back in high school, he had been forced to play football. Being so short, but strong, he always landed the position of kicker in the team, finding, much to his surprise, that he had quite a talent for it, managing to score many extra points from as far back as the thirty yard line and beyond. After all these years he was pleased to discover that his aim was just as accurate as it had always been.  
❮


	4. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank keeps the pressure on Gerard, but is he pushing too hard?

“Get up, Way,” Frank ordered.  
“I can’t,” Gerard groaned, as he lay still curled on the floor.  
“Get the fuck up!” Ray snapped angrily but at the same time trying hard to keep his voice low so as not to alert the neighbours.Grabbing Gerard’s arm roughly, Ray pulled him to a sitting position. “We don’t have all night!”

Gerard looked up to see the man nursing his left hand, two of the fingers already badly swollen from the bite he had given him when he was attacked at the door.

“If I can’t do my job because of you, Way, you’re a dead man and so is that precious brother of yours!” Ray growled angrily as Gerard forced himself to stand, despite the pain of Frank’s kick to his groin still coursing through him. He felt weak and oh, God, so sore he could barely move.  
“What do you want?” Gerard asked.

Even he knew it was a ridiculous question. They were there to discuss the bank robbery and his part in it and he knew it, but he had to say something and no other question would come to his pain-ridden mind.

“Sit down, Way,” Frank suggested. 

It would be a long night and from the look of him, still not fully upright and pale as a ghost, Gerard was fit to drop. Gerard wasted no time arguing, and headed as fast as he could manage to the nearest chair.

“Good,” Frank smiled. “Now perhaps we can talk?”

Gerard’s shoulders dropped and he sighed irritably.

“Just prove to me that Mikey’s okay, tell me what you want me to do and get out.”

A tangible tension descended over the room. Gerard felt it but chose to say and do nothing, he had to hold his ground; he was not without pride. Frank drew his lips into an angry pout and glared at Gerard. Saying nothing and without even glancing away, Frank pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a speed-dial number. He paused for a few moments before speaking.

“Are you with him?” Frank nodded to himself. “Just one. Put him on speaker.”

Throwing the phone to Gerard, Frank continued to glare. Catching the cell phone, Gerard held it to his ear; staring back at Frank’s furious glower, he spoke.

“Mikey?”  
“Gerard? Is that you?” came the scared reply.  
“Yeah, Mikes, are you okay?”  
“I… I’m okay, Gee,” Mikey replied hesitantly.

Of course he wasn’t okay. He had been beaten, kidnapped, his hands and feet handcuffed and he was very, very scared – but he knew from the little they had told him that Gerard had enough to worry about and he wasn’t about to add to it.

Gerard’s eyes widened as the next sound he heard was the sound of his brother screaming in agony.

“Mikey!” he yelled in panic at the sound.

Frank snatched the phone from him and with his fingers still curled around the phone, swept the back of his fist viciously across Gerard’s face.

“Keep it down, Way!” he growled.

Gerard turned a glare of half fear half anger towards Frank.

“You bastard, Iero! What’s happening to him?”

Gripping Gerard around the neck, Frank pushed him back into the seat while pulling the gun, already fitted with the silencer, from his pocket. Pushing the barrel into Gerard’s cheek, Frank spoke through gritted teeth.

“He got that because you tried to give me orders. Now, I suggest you calm yourself down, Way, because, believe me, he’ll suffer for it and the mood I’m in now, so will you! Don’t get me wrong, I want those jewels in that vault of yours, but it’s not the end of the world if I don’t get them. You speak to me like that again, or try to defy me in any way and you’re a dead man! Got it?”

Gerard gave a tense and shallow nod. What little colour that had returned to his cheeks had once again drained away.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly.  
“Better.” Frank smiled with satisfaction; pleased to have once more demonstrated that he was in control.

*

Mikey was curled into a ball, gasping for breath wondering what the hell he had done wrong. That man, the blond one who had attacked and kidnapped him, had held the phone close enough for him to speak, he had heard Gerard’s voice and answered his question saying nothing of where he was or who had him and had immediately and inexplicably been backhanded.

Shutting off the speaker, the man held the phone briefly to his ear as he took direction from Frank. Speaking few words, he glanced occasionally at Mikey still curled up, too afraid to make eye contact for fear of another beating.

Shutting off the phone, the man then started back up the stairs as if nothing had happened, as if Mikey wasn’t even there. At the top of the stairs, he switched off the light, plunging the room into blackness. Pain gave way to despair, and Mikey shuddered with a mixture of anguish and the frightened tears he was no longer able to hold in. Exhausted by the trauma of the day, even the thin mattress began to feel somewhat comfortable. Mikey’s tears added to the stains as they dripped from his cheek and nose. Finally overcome with despair and fatigue, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

*

Ray glared at Gerard as he wrapped his hand in a towel filled with ice. Now able to join Frank and Ray at the table, he tried his best to ignore the daggers that Ray was sending his way.

“Okay,” Frank began as if he were addressing a meeting. “I want to start by saying that you can forget any loyalty you have to the bank. Your only loyalty now is to your brother, assuming you want him to live.”

Gerard pulled his lips into a thin line and tried his best to hold in his response, but Frank could see he was almost fighting to keep it in.

“What?” he asked, clenching his jaw in annoyance. After a brief pause, Frank slammed his hand down on the table. “Don’t make me prove it to you again, Way! I will, believe me, but I could do without wasting my time on you!”  
“Cut the scare tactics, Iero. I hate the bank, I always have. I don’t give a damn if you blow it to bits! Now just tell me what you want.”  
“Yeah, right, Mister Assistant Manager,” Frank replied sarcastically, “that’s how you get to the top, by not caring.”  
“You can believe me or not, I don’t care. The point is I’m not going to do anything to endanger Mikey, okay? I’ll do whatever you want… just… don’t hurt him… please!”

Frank folded his arms and regarded Gerard, at first with suspicion and then, after a few moments, his feelings bordered on trust. He knew that Gerard was still being forced to do all this, he wouldn’t assume otherwise, but he began to genuinely feel that he wouldn’t lift a finger if there were the remotest risk to Mikey. He liked that. He had chosen his victim well.

“Fair enough,” Frank nodded. “I don’t care what your motives are, provided you do what you’re told.”  
“I…,” Gerard hesitated. “I just wanted you to know that, because, if I’m honest, I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”  
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked, his tone making it very clear that he believed nothing of what he was hearing.  
“I don’t know how to open the vault and I don’t know how to get past all the security devices.”  
“What do you know?” Frank snapped.

Gerard shrugged helplessly; he could tell without a word being spoken on the subject, that Frank believed him to be stalling.

“The security, the vaults, they’re all on a timer. No one can get in before eight-thirty in the morning.”  
“That’s my job,” Ray cut in. “All we need from you are the daily security codes and the guard duty rosters. We know the routines and passcodes change daily, your job is to give us the information. And it better be accurate, Way, or your brother’s dead. Okay?”

Gerard swallowed hard and took a deep breath; it really didn’t need saying as many times as they had. He understood, but above all, he believed them.

“Yeah.”  
“Okay,” Frank took a deep breath. “Pay attention, we’re doing this tomorrow night.”


	5. Frank and Mikey begin to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why do I get the feeling that, deep down, you're not actually a bad man?"

“The bank closes and everyone is out by six, yes?” Frank turned to Gerard for his confirmation.  
“Yes, but then the cleaning staff…”  
“I know,” Frank cut in abruptly. “They’re out by nine.”

Gerard nodded; Frank knew the routines better than he did. It was no real surprise; he knew that Frank had been watching both him and the bank, and almost certainly the manager too.

“How long have you been planning this?” The question was out before he realised he had even spoken.

Frank turned his gaze toward Gerard, somewhat taken aback by the suddenness of the question.

“Long enough,” he replied without giving it much thought. “Now pay attention, we’re going through this once and you’re gonna get it right.”  
“I told you...”  
“Don’t tell me, just do it!” Frank snapped in reply.  
“So,” Gerard asked quietly with a light shrug, “you want me to stay late and let you in?”  
“No!” Frank frowned. “Do you want everyone to know something’s wrong? Do you want us to kill your brother?”  
“Look, just stop it!” Gerard snapped. “Stop saying that! I know you’ll do it if I don’t help, I believe you, damn it! I’m helping aren’t I? I’m helping!”

Frank found it hard to control the smirk that so wanted to play across his lips, but this session wasn’t about keeping him in check – it didn’t need to be, Gerard was well and truly under their control.

“You leave, at six, just like you always do and you come back here. Nothing, I repeat, nothing must look out of place. Got it?”

Gerard nodded unhappily.

“Each morning you receive details of the daily codes and duty rosters.”

Gerard nodded again.

“Yeah, at eight-thirty by encrypted e-mail.”  
“Good, I’m going to call at nine and you’re going to give me that information.”  
“I’ll print it off for you.”  
“Don’t be a fool!” Frank scowled, shaking his head. “They’ll have that e-mail tagged, if you print it or try to forward it, they’ll know. Write it down on a pad of paper, then give me the entire pad. I don’t want you leaving any impressions of what you’ve been writing for the police to find.”  
“Then what?” asked Gerard hopeful that his instructions would end there.  
“We’ll pick you up from here at eleven.”  
“What do you need me for?” Gerard cried astonished. “You said you had everything else, you just wanted the codes and rosters.”  
“What? Leave you loose to call the police while we’re inside the vault?” Frank laughed at the idea.  
“How can I do that while you have Mikey?”  
“You’re coming with us.” Frank instructed with a harsh stare. “Besides, we may need you, should you accidentally write down the wrong instructions, you’ll be there to put things right, won’t you?”

Gerard nodded. There was little else he could do except agree with them.

“What will you do?”

Frank cocked his head to one side, unsure what Gerard was referring to.

“I mean, the security guys,” Gerard frowned; he really didn’t want to ask the question. “I mean, you’re not going to kill them are you?”

Frank directed an unreadable yet cold gaze toward Gerard.

“You do your job and let us do ours.”

Gerard’s lips parted in panic and he shook his head slowly, eyes wide with disbelief.

“You can’t! Please, can’t you just…?”

Without a word, Frank drew the gun from his pocket once more and slowly but deliberately he levelled it – nestling the end of the barrel in the curve of bone where Gerard’s left eye met the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll say this just one more time – stick to what you’re told and we’ll do the rest, our way.”

Unwilling to stare down the barrel, Gerard closed his eyes, his breathing becoming stilted and short as his nerves got the better of him.  
Frank smiled, but he refused to let himself become complacent. Yes, this whole thing seemed to be going too well to be true. But perhaps all that meant was that he had planned with his usual flair. He had never involved an outsider before and, even though he refused to show it, Frank was nervous. He could plan all he liked, control all he could, but it was still very possible for things to fall apart and if they did, the results could be catastrophic. He had to be sure, absolutely sure he had thought of everything. He smiled cruelly as the perfect solution came to him.

“One more thing,” he began slyly as he returned the gun to his pocket, grinning arrogantly as Gerard looked up. “I’ve arranged for a bomb to be built and placed in the room with your brother. It has a remote trigger. If you screw up or do anything to endanger us, or our plans, I’ll press the button. Do you understand, Way?”

Gerard dropped his head into his hand, stunned by the news.

“I said do you understand?” Frank repeated menacingly.  
“Yes!” Gerard’s yelled in reply, his fist clenched in anger and frustration.

He had reached the end of his rope and simply couldn’t believe the levels of cruelty they would stoop to in order to get what they wanted. By the time he eventually looked up, Ray was smirking at him, clearly thinking it a fitting punishment for the bite he had suffered earlier.

“We’re done here,” Frank announced pushing back the chair and rising to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow at nine. Don’t screw this up, Way. It’s in your interests to make sure it goes well.”

*

Bob examined the small device that lay in front of him on the table. His army contact had proved very useful and reliable over the years and had managed to supply him with a great deal of weaponry and explosives, but this – this was special. Now working in the field of emergent technology, his contact was able to lay his hands on so much more; it was like a dream come true.The only drawback was the limited timeframes that the equipment could be missing for. All weapons and equipment were subject to strict inventory, naturally, but Bob paid this man well and he had figured out a way to cover up any losses. But when there was only one of a particular device or weapon, there wasn’t much that could be done to disguise the theft. No, this had to be done on a loan basis only and within very strict time limits. Bob knew that if found to be missing, the blame would be laid squarely on his contact’s shoulders and no amount of money paid in the past would prevent him from implicating Bob to cut a deal for a lighter sentence. Both men knew that they needed to be at each other’s backs. A fragile loyalty existed between them, but provided each did their jobs well, nothing would go wrong.

Bob smiled to himself as he briefly reminisced about his own years in the army. The training had been hard, but he had been more than ready for the challenge. Physically very fit, even before he joined, Bob, or Private Robert Bryar as he was then known, had thrown himself into his chosen profession with vigour and a strong determination to succeed. Private Bryar excelled in his training, eventually specialising in explosives, bomb disposal and weaponry, swiftly rising to the rank of Staff Sergeant in charge of a squad of twelve men. It was at this point that Bob began to realise that there were more rewards to be reaped from his position than a decent salary and long term promotion prospects. Bob was still young and impatient. Added to that, he was clever and could see ways of obtaining some of the things he wanted without the need to wait for honest opportunities.  
As in all things, the transgressions started small: rations, petty cash. But it wasn’t long before Bob was setting his sights on bigger game. Forming a partnership with another officer, the pair began appropriating weaponry for sale on the black market, covering their tracks with inventive accounting techniques.  
When the crunch came and their dealings were finally discovered, Bob kept his partner’s role in the thefts secret, taking the entire blame on himself. Far from being a noble gesture, Bob was merely ensuring a willing contact within the army on his release from prison. With a dishonourable discharge from the army and a four year sentence, Bob would have a long wait, but he was young, he was patient, he would bide his time.

The wait was worth it. His contact had remained true to his word and had supplied him with numerous items of weaponry and technology over recent years, even introducing him to other reliable sources of all manner of gadgetry that proved helpful to Ray’s area of expertise. But this was the big one, this was the one that would make them wealthier than even they had dreamed and the device before him, no bigger than a cell phone, would play the single most important role of the night. Pocketing it, Bob headed to the door and let himself out; Frank would be back soon, there was no need to babysit – locked in the basement and cuffed hand and foot, their unwilling guest was going nowhere.

*

“Do you want something to eat?” Frank asked, gently shaking Mikey’s shoulder.

The sudden touch and the voice he didn’t recognise pulled, almost dragged, Mikey from his exhaustion-fuelled sleep. Gasping in surprise, his eyes flew open to see Frank standing over him. Trying to pull away, having not heard the words so having no sense of the reason for Frank’s looming presence, Mikey panicked as he realised his hands and feet were still cuffed. All he knew was that Frank was touching him, again. He was confused and frightened; beaten earlier for no apparent reason, Mikey had no idea what the man had in store for him, but this time he wouldn’t just lie there and take it.

“Get away from me!” he screamed.  
“Hey!” Frank stood back holding his hands up defensively. “I only asked you if you wanted something to eat!”

Mikey stared up, trying to gather his thoughts and pulling in breaths in short frequent gasps; he found himself unable to reply.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Frank knew he was stating the obvious, but was hoping Mikey would give him some clue about what to do about it.  
“I… I know.”

Frank rolled his eyes.

“And?” He stared down, irritated at first but growing more and more concerned as time went on. “What do I do about it?”  
“In… inhaler.”  
“Where?”

Frank was starting to feel foolish. Clearly Mikey knew exactly what to do and his eyes turned towards him with a pained and pleading expression while he gasped for breath made Frank’s mind up for him. Pulling a small key from his pocket and kneeling at Mikey’s side, unlocked the handcuffs around his wrists. Immediately, Mikey’s hand plunged into his pocket for his inhaler and he took two deep puffs from the blue pump. Slowly the gasping breaths subsided and his shoulders drooped as the tension fell away. Pushing the inhaler back into his pocket, Mikey propped himself up with his right hand and turned to stare at Frank.

“Are you okay?” Frank finally asked as he saw to his great relief that Mikey’s panic attack had abated.

Mikey took a final deep breath and nodded.

“Why did he lay into me before?” Mikey asked with surprising candour. “The blond guy.”

Frank frowned.

“I’m sorry about that,” he shrugged. “I needed to convince your brother to fall into line.”  
“You’re saying that you having me here doesn’t make him do that already?”

Frank glanced briefly away.

“No,” he admitted. “Look…” Frank shook his head. “No… I don’t even know why I’m answering your questions!”  
“You’re going to kill us aren’t you?” Mikey asked quietly.  
“No… I…” Frank stammered before finding his voice once more. “Just put your hands behind your back!”

Not even waiting for Mikey to do as he asked, Frank snatched at his arms and closed the handcuffs around Mikey’s wrists once more. Frank pushed himself up and rose to his feet, all the time seemingly unable to take his eyes off the man lying helpless on the mattress.

“Why do I get the feeling that, deep down, you’re not actually a bad man?”

Frank’s brow furrowed. Mikey was like no one he’d ever met before. He was direct, but there was an unexpected innocence to his tone and manner that seemed totally out of place with his questions.

“Get some sleep,” Frank ordered as he turned to head back upstairs, unable to shake off the feeling of disquiet Mikey had left him with.


	6. Frank's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you hitting on me?"

Staring out of the window, Frank leaned on the kitchen counter and lost track of the minutes. All manner of thoughts were racing around in his head – thoughts that simply made no sense to him. He had to put an end to this, he would not, could not let anyone distract him from the job they had planned for the next night. It was dark by the time he snapped out of the daydream.

“Fuck you!” Frank snapped angrily. “No one! Not one person has ever made me feel bad about what I do. But then Mikey Fucking Way comes along and just lies there and says the most innocent things, so calmly, so… so…!”

Frank screamed in frustration and slammed his hands down on the counter top.

“So, you think I’m not a bad man?” he growled. “I’ll show you how bad I can be!”

Storming from the kitchen, Frank headed for the door to the basement room. Throwing it open and switching on the light, he almost ran down the stairs.

“So,” he opened with a harsh glare, “you don’t think I’m a bad man?”  
“No,” Mikey replied with his eyebrows raised slightly at the unorthodox entrance. “Not deep down, no. Why? Are you?”

Frank’s shoulders sagged and he simply stared at his hostage. What could he say? Mikey seemed to possess a maddening ability to bring everything down to its most simplistic level. It was infuriating but, at the same time, it was endearing. Frank was confused again. He could really do without this.

“Why are you doing this?” Mikey asked the simple question even though he knew what the answer would be.  
“Oh, come on!” Frank scoffed. “No one’s that naïve!”

  
Mikey offered an awkward shrug from his position on the mattress.

  
“I don’t just mean this particular time, I mean, in general. This isn’t your first time is it?”

  
Frank pulled up a chair and sat with his legs astride it whilst he leaned over its back.

  
“No, it’s not my first time,” he took a deep breath as he thought of the many robberies he had performed over the years – some with Ray and Bob and others on his own.  
“Well, why?” Mikey pushed. “You’re not short on intelligence; that’s pretty obvious. What made you do this?”

Frank considered the words and thought about his past misdemeanours and felonies. He had never been asked that question before, not even when arrested. He had never even taken the time to ask himself that one simple question.

“It’s a long story,” Frank replied dismissively.

  
Mikey rattled the chain between the cuffs on his wrists.

  
“I don’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. Tell me,” he added, “I want to know.”  
“You want to know how I got so bad?” Frank asked snorting with derision.  
“I don’t believe you are. Remember?”

“Okay. I was in college.” Frank surprised himself by actually answering the question. “I came from a really poor family, I had to put myself through college and money was real tight. So, I got a job stacking shelves in a market. The hours were lousy and the money was worse.”

“You stole from the market?” Mikey asked, in a non-judgmental tone.

  
Frank gave a short laugh and shook his head sadly.

  
“You have no idea how ironic that is!”  
“I’m sorry, I interrupted. Go on.”

“Yeah well, it was going okay. I studied all day, worked half the night and went back to my room exhausted, but I survived. I was getting through college and I was determined to make it, get a good job. My kids were going to have all the things my parents weren’t able to give me. Don’t get me wrong, they were amazing parents, but I think it hurt them that everyone else’s kids had such nice things. Anyway, I’m stacking shelves one night and three guys burst in demanding the day’s takings from my boss. I ran over just as he was grabbing a shotgun from under the counter. They shouted my name, I guessed they must have been from the college, but they were wearing ski masks, so obviously, I didn’t recognise any of them. My boss assumed I was in on it, and had let them in, but I hadn’t, I was running to help him. I got the butt of the rifle in my face for my trouble. When I woke up, I was in prison charged with assisting an attempted armed robbery. I was there because I worked there but the prosecution used the fact that they knew my name and that I was a couple of months behind on the fees. He convinced the jury that I was a party to the robbery to get myself back on track. The three guys got away and were never caught. The jury were told that I was protecting them; you know, honour amongst thieves. I was furious, I didn’t even know these guys, how could I name them? I was sent down for eighteen months, just for doing my job. I was nineteen, I had no college degree, a prison record and no prospects. Everything I’d worked for went for nothing. Dead before I’d even lived.”

“What was prison like?” Mikey asked quietly.

  
Frank’s gaze drifted to the furthest corner of the room; he grew silent and reflective.

  
“Like Hell on Earth. I was young, and well, I was pretty,” Frank paused as he took a deep shuddering breath. “Some of the guys in there, well, they haven’t seen a woman for a long time and sometimes a pretty young boy will do. You can try all you like, but they’ll always find some way to get you alone.”  
“I’m sorry,” Mikey replied, with a genuine worried frown.  
“No, don’t be, it’s hardly your fault, is it?”  
“It doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry it happened.”

Frank stared at Mikey with a puzzled expression firmly fixed on his face.

  
“Okay,” he began. “I’m confused. I kidnap you, Bob’s beat you up at least twice, I’ve kept you locked up down here, threatened your brother and you’re nice to me?”  
“It sounds to me like you’ve had enough people being mean to you.”  
“I’ve always had people take issue with me for one reason or another,” Frank admitted, surprising even himself that he said it.  
“Because of your height?” Mikey asked without malice.  
Frank offered him a crooked smile. “That’s the other reason.”  
“Must be tough.”  
“I don’t get you,” Frank shook his head. “I really don’t!”  
“No, you’re not alone.” Mikey sighed. “You want to know something? As we’re sharing stuff; my girlfriend didn’t get me either.”  
“Your girlfriend?” Frank exhaled. He didn’t know why it was a surprise, not really, but it was. “She didn’t get you?”  
“No, spent the last eight months cheating on me with some hippy loser. She borrowed so much money from me, supposedly for her sick mother’s medical bills. Turns out her mother died years ago.”  
“Probably from disappointment,” Frank commented with a deep scowl.

  
Mikey smiled knowingly.

  
“See! I told you you weren’t all bad, didn’t I?”  
“You did,” Frank agreed with a faint smile.  
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be caught again and sent back?” Mikey asked, once again bringing a grave and serious tone to the discussion.  
“Of course I am!” Frank shook his head. “But I’m never going back. Never!”  
“But how can you be sure?”  
“I’m good at what I do. Like you said, I’m intelligent and this isn’t my first time.”  
“It’s your first kidnapping isn’t it?”  
“What makes you think that?” Frank snapped, trying to give nothing away.  
“I don’t know,” Mikey admitted. “I think, I just kind of hoped.”  
“Hoped?”

  
Mikey turned a pair of soft brown eyes towards Frank.

  
“I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug, “I just got the feeling it was new to both of us.”

Frank smiled. There was something charming and refreshingly undemanding about Mikey that he not only liked, but also found irresistible.

“I’m going to make something to eat,” he sighed. “I’ll make you someting too. Okay?”  
“Thanks,” Mikey smiled. “Perhaps I’ll know how bad you are by your cooking?”  
“How?” Frank was forced to smile in amazement, “How do you do this?”  
“You let me use my inhaler, you can’t be all bad.”  
“I’m not,” Frank finally admitted. “And I am sorry Bob hit you.”  
“That’s okay,” Mikey flashed a smile, no longer afraid for his life. “It’s been good to talk with you. Really good.”  
“Are you hitting on me?” Frank half asked, half joked.

  
Mikey blushed at the suggestion.

  
“No!”  
“Shame,” Frank shrugged good-naturedly as he headed back up the stairs.


	7. Is anyone all good or all bad?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey's ex shows her true self, and so does Ray

The food was getting cold, but what concerned him more was the beer was getting warm. Shortly after Frank Iero and the incompetent he had brought along as muscle had left, Gerard had noticed no fewer than eleven messages on his answer phone. His gut told him that Iero and his cronies would never leave a recorded message threatening him, but there may well have been some sort of innocent sounding message that he would understand given the circumstances. So far he had listened to nine of them and they had all been pretty much the same. The caller was Leanne, Mikey’s ex-girlfriend, with professions of regret and undying love. Gerard had believed Mikey without question when he said that the split was a mutual and amicable one, but the tone and persistence of the calls suggested otherwise. Had Mikey ditched his girlfriend and fled to avoid a confrontation? Admittedly, it didn’t seem like him, but then, neither was lying to his own brother and he had successfully managed that. Pressing the skip button, Gerard moved onto the tenth message, which proved a real eye-opener for him.

_“Okay, Mikey, you win! I admit it; I was stupid. I should never have cheated on you. I don’t really know why I did except that, well, you never actually seemed to be a part of the relationship. I really thought you were cheating on me at one point! You were so distant and… well… did you even care even a little bit? Did you ever? Do you now?_

_I never thought I’d be leaving a message like this on your brother’s answer phone – by the way, I’m really sorry Gerard, but he’s not answering his cell and maybe you can make him listen?_  
_I just wish you’d pick up and we could talk. I know you’re there Mikey. Please talk to me. I’m really sorry. Is there still a chance for us? I’m guessing not, but, I’m only asking for a few minutes of your time. I’ll pay you back every cent of what I owe you and… well, I’m really, really sorry._  
 _If you’ve heard this, I guess we’re through. If you haven’t and you’re out, please don’t meet someone. Just one more chance Mikey, is that too much?  
Gerard, if you have any influence with him at all, please ask him to call. Bye… bye_.”

Gerard sighed. Every word was heartfelt and dripping with regret. So, Leanne had cheated on him. That made so much more sense than Mikey’s own excuse of wanting some space while she moved out. He hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but Mikey had never even spoken about her moving in. He felt sure Mikey would have shared that exciting morsel as soon as she had agreed to the idea, let alone packed a single plate.  
No, even without the message, Mikey’s explanation appeared suspect, while this message smacked unmistakably of the truth.

  
For Mikey to have concocted a lie, even the very basic one he told, Gerard knew that the truth must have hurt him deeply. The irony was that he didn’t even need to hold strong feelings for her to be hurt. Mikey was very much an open book and the truth, however plainly stated, would hurt considerably less than a lie spun out for what had amounted to selfish reasons.

Gerard, on the other hand, was much less forgiving. She had hurt his brother. How she had; why she had; it made no real difference – the point was, she had and the fact of it hurt him too. Gerard pressed the button to forward to the last message, which revealed a little more – not so much about the relationship as about Leanne herself.

“ _Okay, so it’s two hours later and you’re still not calling. I guess I should have seen that coming! No doubt you’re trying to make me suffer, dragging things out to punish me? Well, I guess it’s time to tell you the truth. I never loved you; I never even liked you that much! That’s why I went with Alexander, because I felt nothing with you. Do you hear me, Mikey? Nothing! And as for you? You could have had a dozen girls for all I care; I wouldn’t have noticed or cared. Whatever you’re doing, I don’t care, I haven’t for ages and this is your loss, not mine! I don’t see you finding anyone who gives a damn about you, Mikey, because you’re cold and hard and care nothing for anyone! I don’t regret a thing and, just so you know, don’t ask for any money back, it ain’t gonna happen!”_

Listening to the eleventh and last message, it seemed clear to him that every word of the previous messages were lies. Leanne had never really cared for Mikey at all, but simply wanted her guilty conscience assuaged. Even if Mikey had been there, what good would talking do at this stage? Her last message had complained that he was purposely dragging things out to punish her; that in refusing to take her calls he proved to her that she was right to look elsewhere.

  
Gerard shook his head sadly. She was a spoiled brat, used to getting her own way but, Gerard decided as he erased all of the messages, this was one Way she would not be getting. Even though they were both grown men, Gerard had found it difficult to shake off the role of protective big brother and, if the truth were known, neither of them wanted him to.

*

Ray drained the glass with a slight grimace as the scotch burned the back of his throat. It was a particularly fine single malt; he could afford it these days, but the characteristic burn when he drank quickly still took him by surprise. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he picked up the phone and pressed a speed dial button while he poured himself another drink. Pausing for a few moments as he waited for a reply, Ray took a sip of the warming drink.

“Hello?”  
“Hi, mom, it’s me. How did you get on?” Ray asked, placing the glass back on the table, he lifted a pen and turned a notebook to a more convenient angle.  
“It’s not good news, Ray,” she replied her voice catching as she spoke.  
“Come on, mom, don’t get upset. Whatever it is, we can sort it out between us,” Ray replied confidently, hoping to lift her spirits.  
“Not this time,” she sighed, “they want to operate and I don’t have insurance. You’ve been so good paying for my tests, but this time it’s not a couple of hundred.”  
“How much?” Ray asked as gently as he could in spite of the worry he felt for his aging mother.  
“The operation would be fifteen thousand dollars.”  
“And the aftercare?” Ray asked jotting down the details on the pad.  
“What aftercare, I can’t even have the operation. I can’t afford that and neither can you!”  
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said firmly but kindly. “Now, come on, how much is the aftercare?”  
“Ray, don’t be ridiculous! You’re an engineer, where are you going to get that kind of money?”  
“I’m a good engineer, mom and I’ve kind of been freelancing. I’ve done well; well enough to pay for your operation.”  
“What do you mean, freelancing?” she asked suspiciously.  
Ray laughed at the tone.  
“I’ve been going out and doing jobs, well paid jobs,” he replied.

His honesty in his choice of words was remarkable, but his intention was that she would assume he meant genuine engineering jobs. Unfortunately for Ray, his mother was more astute than he gave her credit for. Still he could always play the guilt card if he needed to.

“Ray, what you’re doing… it is legal, isn’t it?”  
“Mom!” Ray responded with a tone dripping with indignance.  
“Ray?” she countered, not swaying from her earlier question.  
“I went to jail once, mom,” Ray replied carefully. “I have no intention of going back.”  
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pushed again.  
“Mom, stop worrying. I told you I wouldn’t risk it again and I meant it.”  
“If you did, it would break my heart, Ray. You know that, don’t you?”  
“Do you really think I’d do that? Really?”  
“I’m sorry, Ray, but it’s so much and I know you, you want to help…”  
“And I can,” he cut in. “I’m going to move twenty five thousand into your account.”  
“Twenty five thousand! Ray, I’m worried…”  
Ray looked up as the doorbell sounded.  
“Mom, I gotta go, there’s someone at the door.”  
“Ray, I love you…”  
“I love you too, mom, you have to stop worrying. We’ll get it sorted.”  
Ray frowned as the doorbell rang again.  
“Promise me!”  
Ray sighed.  
“Mom, I promise you, the money has been earned honestly.”  
“Thank you!”

  
Ray could almost hear his mother smiling happily down the phone.

  
“I gotta go, mom, Bob’s at the door. I’ll speak to you on Friday.”

After brief goodbyes, Ray replaced the handset as he headed for the door. His conscience was clear – he hadn’t totally lied to her; the money was earned honestly, just not by him.  
Opening the door, he smiled and stepped to one side as he allowed Bob into his apartment.

“Did you see her?” Ray asked guessing what the answer would be as Bob shouldered past him with a deep set frown firmly fixed on his face.  
“What do you think?” Bob growled as he stormed through into the living room and snatching up Ray’s bottle of eighteen-year-old single malt whisky, pouring himself a large glass and downing it in one.  
“Where is she?” Ray asked.  
Bob shook his head miserably as he poured another glass of scotch and offered the bottle to Ray.  
“I don’t know,” he replied with a helpless shrug. Flopping down onto the comfortable leather sofa as Ray took the bottle and topped up his glass. “I should never have told her I was coming.”  
“She can’t stop you seeing your kid forever!” Ray snapped. “You’ve got rights!”  
“Who’s going to enforce the rights of an ex-con?” Bob grumbled.  
“So, what are you going to do?”

  
Bob turned the glass in his hands.

  
“I just got to find her again, and next time, no niceties! I’m going to see my son and I’m going to take him away.”  
“Bob, what the hell? She’s got custody, that’s kidnapping, man!” Ray replied, staggered by the response.  
“Yeah, well, turns out I’m pretty good at that. Cheers!” Bob replied, raising his glass in a toast to kidnapping.

  
Ray shook his head.

  
“You can’t do it. You’ll go to prison!” He reasoned.  
“She’s stopping me from seeing my son, Ray! She should go to prison!”  
“Yeah,” Ray nodded. “She should. But she won’t, you will.”

  
Bob shrugged implying his indifference to the situation, but he was already calming.

  
“Do it through the courts, Bob,” Ray implored. “Do it legally. Get custody of Dan.”  
“They’re not going to give custody to me; I’ve been in prison.”  
“And she’s an alcoholic! She’s not fit to have him!”  
“Don’t you think I know that?” Bob snapped in reply.  
“I’m sorry, Bob.” Ray sighed. “All I meant was, you’ve got a good chance of getting custody.”  
“What then?” Bob asked. “I bring him into the family business?”

  
Ray smiled, then laughed at the seriousness on Bob’s face as he asked the question.

  
“No,” he shook his head. “You do whatever it takes to look after him.”  
“I gotta find her first,” Bob sighed as Ray offered to refresh his drink.  
“I’ll help you,” Ray nodded confidently. “Between us, we’ll find her and we’ll get your son back.”

  
Bob smiled, faintly at first then broadly as he raised his glass to Ray.

  
“You’re a good friend, Ray. Thanks.”


	8. Mikey and Frank Argue...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... but why does Mikey care? Could Frank be right?

Mikey had manoeuvred himself into a sitting position and thought about his kidnapper, who was, quite bizarrely upstairs cooking them both a meal. He had seen two sides to this man, two very different sides and wondered if either were genuine or an exaggeration of aspects of the real person.

In his job as a prosecution lawyer, Mikey had met a lot of criminals. Indeed, it was why he originally thought he had been kidnapped; that someone he had sent down was now exacting his revenge. He had moved with his career and home was now Chicago where, he had to admit, he was a lot more careful when opening doors. It had simply not occurred to him to do the same at Gerard’s and he had paid the price. Still, these men appeared not to know him as a lawyer and had no personal axe to grind. They simply knew him as Gerard’s brother; their hostage to force Gerard to help them break into the bank.

Despite the people he met professionally largely being criminals, he was the first to admit that as a prosecution lawyer, he never got to see anything other than the crime facts and the evidence. The only time he ever saw the defendant was in the courtroom. That wasn’t a failing on his part, that was just the way it was done; only the defence lawyer got to meet his client. Mikey thought about the story the man had told earlier about his arrest and wrongful conviction of assisting an armed robbery. He wondered too if he had sent any innocent men to prison in the attempt to win a case. The problem with being any sort of lawyer is the inability to draw conclusions and act upon them. If he thought a man was innocent but was assigned as prosecutor, he still had to make the case. Of course it was exactly the same for defence lawyers forced to defend people who were plainly guilty. A good defence lawyer could have a guilty man freed if he put a better case than his opponent. Equally, as had been the case with his kidnapper, a weak defence lawyer could effectively send a man to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. The system was flawed, but he hadn’t realised how much until now.

Mikey had never met anyone quite like him before and, because of all of this and more, he wanted to know more about him. One of his personas, he felt, was an act or, at the very least, an exaggeration and he wanted to know which. One minute he believed he knew, the next he was uncertain again. Mikey was unable to shake off the memory of their first meeting; he had been terrified and the man had only scared him more. Worried for himself and Gerard, Mikey had cried himself to sleep as the fear had consumed him. But then, if only to confuse him more, the conversation they had had earlier was touching and he really felt that he had been granted an insight into the real man.

His softer side seemed genuine enough, but Mikey was no fool, he had long since worked out that the man had an eye for him. Was the softer side the act for his benefit? An attempt to gain his affections? Mikey was certainly interested in him, but not in the way he wanted him to be, it was one of the reasons he had mentioned his ex-girlfriend. Momentarily, the man had seemed overwhelmingly disappointed, but had quickly recovered. Mikey got the impression that it had happened before.

Stirred from his thoughts, Mikey looked up as the door opened again and he heard what had become the familiar sound of his kidnapper’s footfalls on the stairs. As odd as it seemed, he was actually quite pleased to see him descending the stairs. Mikey wouldn’t deny that he was hungry, but he knew that wasn’t the sole reason.

Now he was at the bottom of the stairs and Mikey was no closer to knowing the real man but he was intrigued. There was, however, something he needed to know first and foremost.

“What’s your name?” Mikey asked only to receive a surprised expression from Frank. 

It had not occurred to him that he hadn’t divulged that piece of information. His brother knew, he’d even managed to remember it, but he realised now that he had never actually told Mikey. All that talking and he’d never even given him is name.

“I was thinking about you and it suddenly occurred to me, I don’t know your name,” Mikey explained.  
“You were thinking about me?” Frank replied fighting to hold back the smile that was desperate to show itself.   
“Wondering which is the real you?” Mikey clarified.  
Frank took a deep breath as he knelt in front of Mikey.  
“That’s a fair question,” he replied, understanding the point he was making. “And in answer to your other question, my name’s Frank.”

Mikey gave a slight nod by way of acknowledgement as Frank unlocked the cuffs around Mikey’s ankles.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run? Or attack you?” Mikey asked surprised at the gesture.  
“You’ve got nowhere to run to,” Frank stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “All the doors and windows are locked, the phone is disconnected,” he shook his head. “I’m not stupid, Mikey.”  
Mikey sighed and looked down. “No, but would it kill you to make a mistake once in a while?”

Helping Mikey to his feet, Frank appeared to give the question some thought.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “it probably would. I told you, Mikey, I’m not going back to prison. I told you what they did… what they do. I can’t take that again.”  
“Oh come on!” Mikey scoffed. “You’ve been hitting on me all night! I know what you want from me, what this meal’s all about!”

Frank’s eyes widened in fury and he slammed Mikey back against the wall, pulling the gun from his pocket and pushing the barrel into his neck below the jaw.

“You think it’s okay?” he yelled. “You think they can do that? You think I should like it? What fucking planet are you on!”  
“B..but…” Mikey stammered. “If you like… I… I’m sorry…”

Frank calmed slightly, forcing himself to explain; it was, after all, a common misconception.

“If a woman likes men, do you expect her to enjoy being raped?”  
“No!” Mikey replied instantly, suddenly understanding the point Frank was making. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

Frank took a pace back and stared at the man standing before him, handcuffed, scared and, on this topic, utterly clueless.

“Upstairs,” Frank ordered.  
“Why?”  
“Just move!” he yelled unhappily.

Without another word, Mikey moved to the foot of the stairs but hesitated as he placed his right foot on the first step.

“I’m sorry, Frank, I…”  
“Just…” Frank took a deep breath, indicating with the gun for Mikey to climb the stairs. 

As he headed out of the basement, Mikey turned. Frank wasn’t even looking at him, it would have been so easy for him to kick him back down the stairs and make his escape.

“Don’t even think about it,” Frank growled, as if reading his mind. “Just turn left and head for the kitchen.”

Mikey frowned; Frank had everything under control, as ever. Making the short walk to the kitchen, Mikey’s lips turned up at the delightful smells coming from the oven and stove. 

“Sit down at the table,” Frank ordered.

Mikey wanted to be scared, he wanted to be angry, but all he felt was an unexpected distress borne of upsetting Frank. This man had kidnapped him, threatened him, had him beaten; why was he… why could he be troubled that he had hurt his feelings?  
As he sat, he felt Frank reattach the cuffs around his ankles before freeing his hands. Mikey gently massaged his wrists as he looked up, contrite and concerned as Frank went about the kitchen, finishing off preparing the meal in silence.

“I can’t work you out,” Mikey said eventually as the silence grew too much.  
“I’m complex,” Frank replied by way of explanation.  
“When I said I was thinking about you, I was trying to work out which was the real you; the tough bank robber or the gentle guy I spoke to earlier. I’m no closer to working that out.”  
“You’re an idiot!” Frank scolded as he withdrew some plates and bowls from the cupboard.  
“Excuse me?”  
Frank placed the crockery on the counter and turned to face Mikey. His expression was one of tired disbelief.  
“I said, you’re an idiot.”  
Mikey’s eyes widened as Frank turned back to serve the meal he had prepared.  
“Erm…” Mikey began hesitantly. “Could you qualify that?”  
“Yes.”  
“Are you going to?”  
“No.”  
“Why?” 

Frank turned again; he looked angry again.

“If you think you’re not an idiot, work it out!”

Mikey sat in silence as Frank brought a mixed mushroom pasta with the delicate aroma of tomatoes, basil and oregano to the table, followed by a colourful salad and warm bread. Mikey’s mouth watered just from the smell of it but as much as he wanted to try it all, he wanted to clear the air with Frank more.

“You were sent to a terrible place, you didn’t deserve to be there. They did appalling things to you and I’ve trivialised the horror of it by assuming it’s okay because you like men.”

Frank slid into the seat opposite and smiled.

“Don’t let it go cold.”

The pair began eating in silence, but it wasn’t long before Frank resumed the conversation.

“So, when you’re not being kidnapped, what do you do?”

Mikey paused; his fork hovering over the bowl, his eyes wide in shock that Frank had asked the question he had dreaded.

“What?” Frank asked suspiciously. “Are you a cop?”  
“No!” Mikey answered, possibly a little too quickly.  
Frank frowned. “Are you going to tell me, or will I find your name on Google?”

Mikey’s shoulders sagged at the question. His name would almost certainly turn up on most search engines as a partner in his firm. He had no choice but to be honest.

“I’m a lawyer.”

Frank placed his fork down in the bowl and stared unblinking at his hostage.

“Damn!”  
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Frank pondered the question.

“Well, you were right earlier. I was kind of trying to seduce you, but I get the feeling that’s not on the cards. That makes it difficult. I really don’t want to kill you so, I guess we’ve got a problem, Mikey.”  
“What if I say I won’t report you?”  
Frank grinned. “Sure! And I’ll ask Santa and the Easter Bunny to join us, shall I?”  
“I’m serious!” Mikey protested.  
“I’ll bet you are, until you’re out that door.”

Mikey chewed his lower lip; it seemed as though a thousand thoughts were flying around inside his head, each one grinding to a sudden halt as Frank lifted the gun into view.

“In answer to your question, I’m both of the people you’ve met. Not a schizophrenic, just a basically nice guy in a ruthless job with a strong sense of self-preservation. I don’t want to kill you, Mikey, I really don’t. I’ll find a way, if I can, but don’t try to escape. If you leave me with no choice then the decision’s made for me. Understand? Play along and you stand a chance; you and your brother, okay?”

Mikey nodded, uncertain over whether he could trust him to keep to his promise. But then, it didn’t seem as though Frank had given him much of an option.


	9. Frank collects the codes from Gerard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank continues to put the pressure on Gerard, but is he cracking?

Gerard moved as if in a daze as he headed to his office; he hadn’t eaten, he hadn’t slept and it showed. The last he’d heard from Mikey was hearing him scream as Iero had one of his thugs lay into him – Gerard’s punishment for talking back. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the photo that he had been shown of Mikey when Iero first approached him. The thought that they could beat up his brother, as he lay handcuffed and helpless, unable to defend himself, made Gerard furious beyond words. He was determined to make him pay for what he had put Mikey through.

“Mister Way!”  
“What?” Gerard replied almost irritably as he was pulled from his thoughts.

His secretary smiled, pleased to finally get his attention after calling his name three times.

“You must be very worried,” she said with a comforting smile.  
“I am,” Gerard agreed before turning a puzzled glance. “What?”  
“About, Mister Wallis… the manager?”  
“Yeah…” Gerard shook his head. “Sorry, Sarah, my mind’s on a thousand things. Any news of Philip… Mister Wallis?”  
“You don’t know?” Sarah’s eyes widened. “He went into cardiac arrest last night, he’s in the critical care unit.”

Gerard’s eyes widened as he thought about the cause of Philip Wallis’ distress and the fact that the self same man had Mikey.

“Let me know if you hear anything else,” he replied quietly. “Anything at all.”  
“Yes, Sir. Oh, and your nine o’clock is here early, he’s waiting in your office.”  
“Is he now?” Gerard growled through gritted teeth.  
“Is everything all right, Mister Way?” Sarah asked, picking up on Gerard’s unusually sharp replies.  
“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m a little stressed. Could you get me a coffee, please?”  
“And your client?”  
Gerard took a deep breath. “I’ll ask him.”

Gerard headed towards his office, taking another deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside. As he pushed the door open, the chair opposite his desk turned to reveal Frank Iero, again immaculately dressed and smiling smugly. The two looked at each other for a few moments before Gerard stepped into the office and closed the door behind him.

“You look tired,” Frank commented with a smirk.  
“Do I?” Gerard replied angrily as he rounded the desk and took his seat.  
“Yes, you do,” Frank leaned forward, leaning on the desk. “Not too tired to carry out my orders I hope. The last thing I need… no, the last thing Mikey needs right now is for you to be slack.”  
Gerard sighed as he switched on his computer. “I know what you want and I told you I’ll get it!”  
“Slight change of plan.”  
“What now?” Gerard asked irritably. 

Either this guy couldn’t make up his mind or he was trying to keep him on his toes so that he would never be completely sure of his ground.

“Something I almost overlooked,” Frank replied calmly.   
“What?”  
“The email with the daily codes,” he began, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t really need it, they just send it to you.”  
“So?” Gerard asked, his brow creasing in confusion as the point Frank was making passed him by.  
“So, if you normally open it, glance at it, then close it; won’t it look a little odd if you open it today and leave it open long enough to write everything down?”

Gerard drew in a deep breath and frowned.

“And you think that’ll alert someone higher up about a robbery?”

Frank shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“No, you fool! It’ll alert someone to your role in it.”

Gerard narrowed his eyes; why did it matter to Iero whether or not he was implicated?

“Don’t you realise? I’m trying to keep you out of prison.”

Gerard laughed, scoffing at the idea.

“I’m innocent in this! I’m playing along because you’ve forced me to. Do you think I’d let you kill Mikey?”  
“Do you think they’ll care?” Frank shook his head at Gerard’s naivety. “You never heard of an innocent man going to prison before?”  
“I never met one.”  
“Well, you’ll be that man!” Frank leaned forward again. “An innocent man doesn’t play along. An innocent man informs the police.”  
“An innocent man gets killed!” Gerard growled. “Our manager is in CCU because of you! How can you dare come in here saying you’re trying to keep me safe when you nearly kill my boss? And what about Mikey?”  
“He’s fine,” Frank cut in with an abrupt tone.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean he’s fine. What else do you want me to say?”

Gerard thought for a moment about Frank’s words. There was one thing he did want him to say, but even if he did, could he be believed? Frank Iero was confusing in the extreme. He was a bank robber, a very successful one at that by the impression he gave. He had kidnapped his brother and wasted no time in having him beaten at least twice in order to force Gerard to assist him. He had attacked and almost killed the bank manager. And yet, here he was telling him that there was a change to the plan in an attempt to keep Gerard out of prison should his involvement be suspected. He just didn’t make any sense.

“I want you to tell me you’ll let Mikey go free after this.”

Frank cocked his head to one side and frowned.

“How do you define after?” Frank asked mysteriously.  
“When you’ve got what you wanted out of the vault.”

Frank took a deep breath and shook his head.

“No, after for us is after the police trail has gone cold. After you tell them that you know nothing about it, that it’s just as much a shock to you. After all, where’s the incentive for you to keep quiet if we don’t keep a little leverage?”

It was Gerard’s turn to shake his head.

“Then what’s your incentive to ever let him go?”

Frank smiled; this man wasn’t stupid.

“On to business.” Frank announced callously.  
“You haven’t answered my question,” Gerard pushed.  
“No,” Frank answered raising his eyebrows slightly. “I haven’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”  
“Trust you!” Gerard fumed. “Trust you?”

Jumping to his feet, Gerard reached across the desk and grabbed Iero by the shirtfront, and pulling him down and forward.

“You bastard! Where is he?” Gerard snapped. “You’re not leaving this office, I’m calling the police, I’m not letting you kill him!”

Frank slammed on hand down onto the desk for balance as he reached into his coat pocket with the other. Seeing what he thought was a move for a gun, Gerard grabbed Frank’s wrist. In retaliation, Frank seized Gerard’s tie pulling it tight and down towards the desk. Gasping for breath, Gerard choked as Frank pulled the tie tighter and tighter. His face reddening and knees weakening as he was starved of oxygen, Gerard tried hard to keep up the losing battle in the hope that he could turn it around. As the pair struggled, locked together in a pointless fight that Frank knew had to end before it drew anyone’s attention, Frank let go of Gerard’s tie and grabbing the name-plate on the desk, swung it up to his opponent’s forehead. Loosening his grip at the dizzying effects of the blow, Gerard felt Frank pull away and shove him back into his chair with enough force as to cause it to roll back a few inches. Straightening his clothes, Frank dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black box with a silver coloured switch in the centre.

“You remember I mentioned a bomb?” Frank snapped harshly.

Gerard appeared to calm instantly as he sat with his eyes transfixed on the trigger mechanism.

“Don’t… please. I’ll do whatever you need. Just don’t kill him.”  
“Better,” Frank nodded. “Now, I want those details.”

Gerard nodded unhappily.

“Hang on, I just need to log in.”  
“Turn the computer so that I can see the screen,” Frank ordered.

Gerard’s shoulders sagged; it seemed that Iero had thought of everything and could anticipate his every thought. Logging on, Gerard moved the pointer to open the email he received every morning from head office.

“Wait!” Frank instructed. “You’ll open the email, and I’ll call you. You’ll answer but then write everything down. Hang up, then close the email. That way, it’ll look as though you opened it, then got distracted. Understand?”

Gerard nodded. “Yeah, I understand. But when I’m asked why I was opening a sensitive email and taking calls when with a supposed client, what am I meant to say?”  
Frank shrugged. “I can’t do it all for you. Now,” Frank tapped the small device in his hands, “get on with it.”

Lowering his eyes, Gerard opened the email only to hear his telephone ring almost immediately. He glanced at it with a confused expression as he noted the ring was from an internal telephone.

“That’s not you,” he said, glancing back at Frank.  
“Then answer it,” Frank answered curtly.  
“Hello?”   
“Mister Way,” Sarah, Gerard’s secretary began, “you didn’t let me know if your client wanted coffee.”  
“No, no thank you. Wait until later please, Sarah.”  
“Oh, yes, all right. Let me know when you want some.”  
“Thank you,” he said quietly as he lowered the phone. Again, it rang immediately, this time the ring was external.  
“Hello, Gerard Way.”  
“The information?”

Gerard turned his eyes back to the man seated opposite him and nodded; he had very little choice. Writing the codes and duty rosters held in the email took almost ten minutes, with Gerard checking and double-checking all the entries. Casting a final glance over the notes against what he could see on the screen, Frank nodded, satisfied that the information was correct and complete. Curling his fingers around the top of the pad, Frank pulled it towards himself and lowered it into his briefcase. This was the key to the entire plan. With that information Ray would get them past security, Bob would get them into the vault; the rest was a mere formality. The jewels were as good as in his hands.


	10. An unexpected hitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected problem threatens to derail their plans. Luckily Frank has the answer locked in his basement

Gerard frowned as he stared at the closed door. Iero had long since left and he had done little since but stare at the door. In his mind he was weighing up the options and the risks. He didn’t believe for a moment that Iero cared in the slightest whether he was implicated in the robbery. He fully believed that both he and Mikey would be killed as soon as they had their hands on the contents of the vault. That, he was certain, was the type of man he was. The type of man who would say anything just to get the reaction he wanted; a minimum fuss approach to ensure he got the required result.

All he really wanted was those jewels and he would do anything, say anything to get them. He had already proved his willingness to kill; the news had just arrived to say that Philip Wallis, the manager, had sunk into a coma from which he was not expected to recover. That had been his doing, something over which he had shown no remorse. Gerard picked up the phone, his mind made up; he would make him pay and he would not let him kill his brother.

*

Ray picked up the coffee pot and stood poised ready to pour only to sigh with annoyance as the doorbell sounded. Returning the pot to the hotplate, he headed for the door. No sooner had he pulled it open a shade than it was almost pushed in his face knocking him back against the wall. Ray’s eyes widened as he assumed the worst; looking up, he expected to see a line of police come to arrest him. Instead, his eyes alighted on the blond and lightly bearded face of Bob. He appeared dishevelled and flustered; something had clearly upset him, but pushing himself away from the wall with an unhealthy measure of irritation, Ray was in no mood to notice.

“Bob!” he yelled, angry at the abrupt and dramatic entrance made by his friend. “What the hell…?”  
“He’s been arrested!” Bob cut in, slamming the door behind him.  
“Who? Frank?” Ray replied, suddenly stunned and unnerved by the turn of the conversation.  
“No, Gary!” Bob replied in a way that suggested that Ray should know immediately who he was talking about.  
Ray shrugged and shook his head; his expression quietly asking for more information.  
“Who?” He prompted again.  
“Gary! My contact in the army, the one I got the device for opening the vault from.”  
“What for?” Ray asked quickly.  
“What?” Bob replied puzzled by the question; his brow crinkling, registering his confusion.  
“What was he arrested for?” Ray continued, explaining his question.  
“I don’t know.”

  
Bob was stopped in his tracks; it wasn’t something he had thought about. He had heard the bad news from a ‘friend of a friend’ and assumed the worst.

  
“This isn’t good,” Ray frowned. “We have to find out more. Can you contact the person who told you?”  
“Yeah, yeah, I guess, but not from here. Besides, I don’t know what he’ll tell me, if anything. There’ll be a major security clampdown, even if he knows, he may not be able to say anything.”  
“Well, how did you find out in the first place? What, he just rang you and said that the guy stealing for you has been arrested?”

Bob frowned, deeply unimpressed. He knew the way he had told the story had given little away, and Ray knew nothing of army procedure but even Ray must have known that the question was ridiculous.

“It’s called sarcasm, Bob!” Ray added, realising merely from the expression on his friend’s face what he was thinking. “How did you find out?”  
“I know what it’s called, Ray, but I just don’t think it’s the best time for it!” he snapped in return. Bob heaved a deep sigh before continuing. “No, he didn’t just ring me. Well, he did, but not about that. He’s been trying to locate Alison and Dan for me.”  
“Any leads?” Ray asked hopefully.  
“Yeah,” Bob nodded. “Yeah, I think I know where they are.”  
“Wow! That’s great news!” Ray paused as he noticed that Bob wasn’t so enthusiastic.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Everything!” Bob’s expression displayed a look of utter dismay as Ray appeared not to grasp the sheer gravity of the situation. “Ray, I’m close to finding her, to seeing Dan and then Gary goes and gets himself fucking arrested while I’m in possession of a piece of army gadgetry that’s so hot it’s burning my fingers! I can’t get arrested, Ray! If I go down one more time, I’ll lose Dan forever. I won’t even be allowed to see him through plate glass!”

  
Ray frowned helplessly as he watched Bob appear to unravel in front of him.

  
“What am I gonna do, Ray?” Bob asked, his breathing quickening in panic as he waited for Ray to conjure up the right answers; a magical response to all his troubles. When nothing was immediately forthcoming, Bob repeated his plea. “What am I gonna do?”

Ray thought fast, he had to think of something that would placate Bob and give them both a little breathing space to consider their next move.

  
“We have to find out why he was arrested,” Ray nodded as he spoke, hoping Bob would automatically agree to the hastily conceived plan. “I mean, you don’t know, he could just have been drunk on duty, got into a fight or something? You were in the army, you know, you can get arrested for tying your shoelaces the wrong way!”

Bob gave a short, unexpected laugh. Of course, Ray was exaggerating, but not by much. He was right; it may only be a simple, trifling matter. There was no need to assume that he was in any immediate danger; but if he were, they all were. The matter needed to be resolved and quickly. They needed Frank.

*

They were used to how Frank worked by now; he sat in silence as Bob explained everything. He made notes, jotted down questions, but said nothing until Bob had given him all the details. Tapping his pen on the pad, he made a few extra notes before looking up at Bob and Ray’s expectant faces.

“And you’re certain he’s been arrested over the theft of this device?” he asked gravely.  
“Yeah,” Bob nodded, the worry on his face evident in the lines on his brow. “I spoke to a friend in the same base, he knows him, but doesn’t know our business connection. He says the whole base knows.”  
“You took a hit for this guy, didn’t you? When you went to prison, you took the rap and didn’t name him. Any chance he’ll do the same for you?”

  
Bob shook his head.

  
“No,” he replied unhappily. “You make it sound so noble, Frank, but really I was just covering my options for when I got out. I’ve got nothing to offer him except possibly a lighter sentence if he names me.”  
“Damn it!” Frank exclaimed suddenly, slamming the pen down on the pad. “This is bad news, yes, but it is really bad timing!”  
“I’m sorry Frank.”

Frank’s brow creased as he looked up puzzled by the statement.

  
“It’s hardly your fault is it?” he smiled as he realised how distraught Bob was. “No. No, we have to sort this out, and fast. Do you know if you’ve actually been named by him as an accomplice yet?”  
Bob took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He’s probably waiting for his lawyer so he can cut a deal.”

  
Frank smiled.

  
“Is he now? Where is this base?”  
“About ten miles away,” Bob replied, uncertain what Frank had in mind.  
“Okay, now I need you to tell me all about military procedures; this’ll be a court martial, yeah?”  
Bob nodded. “Yeah, the judge and lawyers are military personnel. Gary’s lawyer is on an exercise and won’t be back for two days.”  
“So where is he, this Gary?”  
“He’s still on the base, under guard by the military police.”  
“And they have to be military lawyers?” Frank asked chewing his lower lip distractedly.  
“No,” Bob shook his head. “That’s just what’s provided, but anyone can hire a civilian lawyer, if they want, they just have to pay for him.”

  
Frank’s smile returned and broadened.

  
“Then, I think we have a starting point.”  
“What do you mean?” Ray asked, confused by Frank’s statement.  
“We can at least get in there, we just need to decide what we do once we’re in.”  
“How do we get in?” Ray asked. “They’ll know Bob and neither of us can pass as lawyers.”  
“No, but our little friend downstairs can, because that’s exactly what he is.”  
“I kidnapped a lawyer?” Bob rolled his eyes. “Great! My luck’s really in, isn’t it!”

Frank chewed his lip again as his smile faded.   
“Let’s look at our options,” he began with a grave glance at Ray and Bob. “To my mind we have four options in total. One is unacceptable, one is problematic, another is unrealistic and the last one undesirable.”  
“What are they?” Bob asked quietly.  
“You go into hiding, we get him out, we pay him off or we kill him.”

Silence hung around the table like a thick blanket of impenetrable fog, smothering everyone’s thoughts. Ray looked down and stared intently at the table he didn’t really want to think about the final option.

“I know we discussed this before we grabbed the Way guy, but…” Bob’s voice trailed off. “I know we decided before all of this that we’d _deal_ with them, when the time came. But… I’m not a murderer, Frank. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll beat him up for you, hell, I even kidnapped him, but I don’t think I… No! I can’t. I can’t kill someone, Frank.”  
Ray shook his head. “Neither can I.”  
“This is a real mess, isn’t it?” Bob leaned forward on the table and dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t do what you asked and I’m a hair’s breadth away from getting us all arrested by being linked to Gary.”

  
Frank clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them.

  
“I can’t ask either of you to do something I can’t do either,” Frank admitted with a sigh. “This is my fault. I got carried away by the thought of those jewels and we drifted out of our zones again. We better pull this in fast or it’s really going to get out of control.”  
“What do we do?” asked Ray.  
“The only remotely realistic thing we can do. We have to get him out of there and we have to use Mikey to do it.”  
“He’s never going to agree to that!” Ray remarked.

Frank placed the small box with the chrome switch on the table.

  
“He’ll do whatever we tell him to, we just need this.”  
“What’s that?” asked Bob his brow wrinkled with curiosity.  
Frank grinned. “I’ve been torturing his brother with this. I told him that there was a bomb in Mikey’s room. One flick of the switch and his brother was dead. I figure it’s time to tell Mikey that I’ve planted bombs in both the bank and Gerard’s apartment.”

  
Ray smiled, but still with an edge of mild confusion.

  
“What does it do?”  
“Absolutely nothing,” Frank explained. “Unless you want to count getting people to fall in line.”  
“You’re a genius!” Bob grinned broadly.  
“If we can pull this off, I’ll take the compliment. Now, here,” Frank turned a page in the notebook and picked up the fake trigger device, “write down everything you know about Gary, absolutely everything. And I’ll go speak to his new lawyer.”


	11. Bad News for Gerard and Mikey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank has to get tough again with Mikey. Can he do it or has he let his guard down too much?

Frank stood at the door to the basement and thought briefly about his approach. He knew that whatever happened, he would have to force Mikey to help, but basically he had two choices. He could be honest with him and hope that Mikey would understand and be sympathetic or he could be intimidating and threatening. There didn’t seem to be a middle ground; anything else would potentially show him as weak or vulnerable, and that was simply not an option. Even if Mikey knew the circumstances, there was still a high probability that he wouldn’t care. Of course, that wouldn’t matter, he could still be forced, but Frank abhorred the idea of appealing for help from their hostage and being refused. No, it seemed a much safer option to simply demand his assistance. No doubt, Mikey would see it as a potential means of escape, but Frank knew that the moment he brought the fake trigger mechanism into play, he would be brought in line. Opening the door, Frank descended the stairs at a rapid pace.

Mikey was seated on the mattress, leaning against the wall with his legs drawn up to his chest. Looking up as Frank drew near, he noticed a change in Frank’s expression; he appeared hard and unyielding. Mikey’s brow furrowed slightly as he realised instantly that something was wrong and that he was either the cause or the solution.

“What’s wrong?” he asked tentatively. “What’s going on?”

The corners of Frank’s mouth turned up slightly, impressed by Mikey’s reading of the situation; but of course, he was a lawyer, skilled in reading body language and facial expressions.

“Give me your measurements,” Frank asked, ignoring Mikey’s question.  
“Excuse me?” Mikey asked, astonished by the unexpected question.  
“You heard me well enough,” Frank replied abruptly. “We’re going out; I need to get you some clothes.”

Mikey drew his legs in a little closer, Frank’s statement making him feel a little apprehensive.

q  
“Where?” he asked nervously.  
“I’ll give you all the details later, well, all you need, anyway. But first, I need your measurements.”  
“I’m wearing clothes,” Mikey pointed out suspiciously. “Just not shoes.”

Frank eyed the tight fitting jeans and shirt appreciatively; a faint smile played across his lips as he enjoyed the moment.

  
“Where we’re going you’ll need something a little more formal.”  
“I’m not giving you anything until you tell me what’s going on,” Mikey insisted as he grew increasingly nervous about what Frank had in mind.

Frank cocked his head to the right as he stared down harshly at his hostage. He realised he had shown a little too much of his gentler side and was now paying for it with Mikey’s presumption that he could refuse. He had to reclaim control of the situation, to leave Mikey in absolutely no doubt who was in charge and remind him that merely to survive he had to do what he was told – whatever he was told.

“Listen to me, Mikey,” Frank spoke slowly, deliberately, “you don’t have a choice in this, do you understand? I’ve been kind to you, sure, but don’t think I won’t push this. What I want, I get and you have no say in the matter. Now, your measurements?”  
“No,” Mikey shook his head defiantly.

If Frank wasn’t all he seemed, then it was true to say that neither was Mikey. He was determined that he wasn’t going to be intimidated by Frank’s quiet threats. It was clear that he wanted something from him, something that required him to look smart and for that reason alone, he was unlikely to have him beaten him again. Mikey felt reasonably secure that Frank had little to threaten him with.

“Very well,” Frank conceded much to Mikey’s initial satisfaction. “If you won’t give me your measurements, I’ll have to take them myself.”

Mikey’s eyes widened in dismay at the suggestion and Frank leapt upon the moment.

“Tell me, Mikey,” he began, stepping forward and lowering himself onto one knee, with an eager smirk emerging on his face. “Do you really want me running my hands all over you? I’ll enjoy taking your inside leg measurements. It'll be tricky to do with you locked up like that. My fingers brushing against…”  
“No!” Mikey shouted emphatically, his eyes widened and his legs pulled impossibly close to his chest.  
“Then give me your measurements and no more stalling," he replied, rising once more, "or I’ll measure you anyway and I’ll take my own sweet time over it. Perhaps I won’t stop there. Whatever happens, it seems likely that you won’t enjoy it.”

Mikey stared back, wide-eyed, with his mouth hanging open slightly. Would he do it? He knew that Frank wanted him, he had made that quite plain, but up until now, he had felt quite safe. Now Frank was threatening to take that wanting several steps further and he was acutely aware that, handcuffed hand and foot, he was in no position to stop him from doing whatever he pleased. Mikey nodded almost imperceptibly to indicate his readiness to cooperate.

“That’s better,” Frank smiled triumphantly.

*

Gerard replaced the phone handset back on the cradle and stared off into the middle distance, blindsided by the news he had just received. Pressing the intercom, Gerard waited a moment or two until he heard the voice of his secretary Sarah.

“Yes, Mister Way?”  
“Can you come in please, Sarah?”  
“Is everything all right, Sir?” Sarah asked, hearing the unusually subdued tone.  
“Please,” he repeated, “come in.”

Within moments, the door to his office opened and Sarah stepped in, her expression one of deep concern. As she caught sight of Gerard’s pale and deeply troubled countenance, she quickly closed the door and hurried to the desk.

“Mister Way, what’s wrong?”  
“Sit, down, Sarah,” Gerard motioned with his arm towards the chair opposite him.

Silently slipping into the chair, Sarah stared back expectantly, although it was obvious that Gerard was struggling to find the words to tell her what was on his mind.

“Sir?” she prompted again.  
“I just got off the phone with Philip's wife,” Gerard announced, staring at the desk, unable to make eye contact with the young woman seated opposite.  
“Phi... is he...?”

Sarah asked the partial question in a whisper, her eyes widening in fear of the reply she didn’t want to hear. When it came, it was merely a silent nod. Gerard didn’t need to look up to know that Sarah was crying; the quiet sounds of her distress at the news almost echoed in the otherwise silent room.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said gently as he looked up to see Sarah pale, trembling and profoundly upset. “You’ve been his secretary for a long time now, haven’t you?”  
“Six years, nearly seven,” she whispered bleakly as the tears continued to roll down her face.

Gerard swallowed, uncertain whether he should go further, before finally deciding to continue.

“You can tell me to mind my own business, but he was more to you than just a manager, wasn’t he?”

Sarah glanced up, taken aback by the question. Philip Wallis was married, most believed happily, but she knew different. Their affair was a well-kept secret, she had thought, and now to be confronted by the fact that someone knew made the news of his death both easier and harder to accept. She couldn’t bear the idea of being harshly judged for having an affair with a married man, but equally, the idea of having to listen to everyone talking about how difficult it would be for his widow, while she wallowed in the depths of mourning would be intolerable.

“How do you know?” She asked, her tears halted by the shock of the revelation.  
“It’s a long story,” Gerard shrugged.  
“Philip told you?” she pushed. “I didn’t realise.”  
“He didn’t, not as such,” Gerard sighed as he realised she was going to keep asking questions until he confessed how he knew. “I told him that I liked you and was thinking of asking you out on a date. He pretty much told me in no uncertain terms that you were spoken for. I kind of guessed the rest, but I don’t think anyone else knows.”

Sarah nodded. It was very much like him to be protective over her and guard her jealously for himself.  
“He’s a… he… was a little insecure about our relationship, well, about himself really. If you don’t mind me saying so, Mister Way, you’re a very handsome man and I guess he thought if you asked me, I’d have gone out with you instead. He always believed that, sooner or later, I’d abandon him. I think he thought that I’d want a husband of my own, and maybe children. It probably didn’t help that I never insisted that he leave his wife, but he had his reasons and I accepted them. He never really understood that I… I… loved him.”

As grateful as she was for the chance to talk openly about their relationship, Sarah’s last few words hit her as hard as the news of his death and all coherent thought slipped away into a whirl of heart wrenching sobs. It seemed as though she had retreated into a quiet solitary world where she remained unaware of Gerard’s presence. He watched her in deep sadness and bitter torment as he reflected on the cause of her distress and how, if not even for his or Mikey’s sakes, he had to act. Somehow, Frank Iero and his gang had to be brought to justice.

*

“There,” Bob nodded as he re-read all the information he had written. “I think that’s everything.”

Frank glanced over the page and nodded; Bob had been very thorough. There was just one thing missing.

“Do you have any idea what size clothes he wears?”  
“Yeah,” Bob agreed. “He’s about the same size as Ray, maybe a little shorter, not much.”  
“You say about the same size. Bigger, thinner or really about the same? It’s important.”  
Bob pulled his lips into a thin line as he concentrated, picturing Gary from the last time he saw him.  
“Broader shoulders, probably. He’s maybe a size bigger, but not more than that.”  
“Okay,” Frank nodded. I’ve got a plan, but I need your agreement Ray and I’d like your opinions too.”

Frank divulged his plan to his two friends. It was a daring idea, fraught with danger and a significant likelihood that it could all go horribly wrong, but it was all they had. Discussing their options and refining the plan until they believed they could make it work, the three men put aside their nervous reservations; there was simply no room for doubt.

“Ray,” Frank began gravely, “I have to ask you again, are you sure you’re okay with this? There is a risk.”  
Ray frowned in a gesture of capitulation. “There’s much more of a risk if we do nothing, isn’t there?”

The statement was true, but it didn’t make Frank feel any better about the gamble he was asking him to take. Frank nodded his appreciation.

“Okay, lets get going, we've got some suits to buy. Bob, can you stay here with Mikey?”  
“Sure,” Bob agreed readily.

It was very much a matter for them all to pull together right now. But he felt sure that Frank would see them through this.


	12. A daring rescue attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank, Ray and Mikey set out to get Bob's contact out of military prison

Four hours later, Mikey sat in the back seat of Frank’s car alongside Ray, his hands handcuffed behind him; the tinted rear windows making it almost impossible for anyone outside to notice his situation. As the car pulled out into traffic for the twenty minute journey, Mikey looked from his knees to Ray and back again. All three were smartly dressed in brand new suits with matching shirts and ties, although, he got the impression that Ray’s suit didn’t quite fit him, which surprised him, as it appeared that Frank had excellent taste and had reached the conclusion that looking his best was important to him. Even when he was dressed casually the previous night when Frank had cooked for him, Mikey had noticed his appearance and been impressed by his attention to use of colour and textures. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to even spare a passing glance that Frank cared about his appearance.

Frank had explained his plan to Mikey only half an hour earlier. Naturally, Mikey had refused to help, astonished by the idea that he had even assumed for a moment that he would acquiesce to his demands. But that was before he had been shown the trigger mechanism and been told about the bomb planted in both Gerard’s home and office. The tiniest flick of a switch and it would all be over for his brother. Frank had taken great pleasure in reminding him that his brother was no longer needed for their plan to succeed as they had all the codes they needed to access the bank and security systems. Of course, Mikey was more than aware by this point that no longer needing Gerard also meant that they no longer needed him and if he didn’t do what they asked, the result could only be both their deaths.

Mikey had initially welcomed the idea of being taken somewhere; it was a chance to escape, possibly the only chance he’d get.But all his hopes were dashed at the production of that tiny black box with the chrome switch. He didn’t dare risk anything that could bring harm, or worse, to Gerard.

Mikey glanced again at Ray, sitting silently next to him, wearing glasses and his hair slicked back with gel, he looked so different.

“What?” Ray asked gruffly.  
“Nothing,” Mikey replied looking away, not wishing to engage either of them in conversation.  
“You think you’re better than us?” asked Ray, pointedly. “Fancy lawyer looking down his nose at criminal scum?”  
“No!” Mikey answered quickly. In truth, he didn’t know what he had been thinking, other than being worried about Gerard. It only occurred to him now that around these men the only thing he had felt was fear. “I wasn’t thinking about you at all.”  
“Were you thinking about me?” Frank laughed from the driver’s seat.  
“I…” Mikey paused, hesitating to answer. He had thought about Frank, he had thought about both of them, but merely observations, not judgements. “I was thinking about Gerard.”  
“Aww, that’s sweet!” Frank laughed again. “Isn’t it, Ray?”  
“Yeah, whatever,” Ray shrugged touching his gelled hair and frowning at the unfamiliarity of it.  
“No, it’s a good thing, it means that our boy here will do his job properly, if he’s worried about his brother and what might happen if he doesn’t.”  
“I’m not your boy!” Mikey snapped back.  
“Listen to me, Mikey,” Frank began sourly, “you’re impeccably dressed, just a bit too beautiful to be real, a tiny bit nervous and handcuffed. You ought to be glad it’s Ray in the back with you and not me!”

Mikey’s mouth dropped open slightly and he gasped with surprise at the openness with which Frank had just addressed him.

“He’s serious, you know,” Ray added with a mischievous grin.  
“I know he is,” Mikey replied looking down at his knees once more.

Frank slowed the car to halt. Mikey looking up nervously as he did.  
“Right,” Frank turned and looked at both men seated in the back of the car, his face hardened with determination. “Everyone remember the plan? And who they are?”  
Ray nodded grimly. “I’m David Tanner, you’re John Brooke and he’s Simon Mellor.”  
“Okay, Simon?” Frank pushed the point.  
Mikey looked up and nodded bleakly; there was little he could do but agree to help them.  
“Okay, Ray, remove his handcuffs.”  
Mikey leaned forward as Ray reached behind him and unlocked the cuffs around his wrists.  
“Don’t forget,” Ray whispered into his ear as he removed the cuffs, “you say or do one thing out of place and Gerard is dead.Got it?”  
Mikey nodded; it wasn’t the sort of thing he was likely to forget, but he had long since realised that they liked to torture him with the idea.

Pulling out into traffic once more, Frank glanced at the clock on the dashboard, it was a little after three and this had to be settled quickly to give them time to finalise their plans for the evening. This whole rescue was a major inconvenience and was only being considered to save Bob from the possibility of arrest. Frank could only hope that, as yet, Bob’s name had been kept out of it. As he drew up to the base, Frank sank into character, determined to make this as real as possible; it was the only way they were all going to get in and out unscathed.

Pulling up at the entrance to the base, Frank lowered the driver’s door window and leaned out as the guard approached.

“We have an appointment to meet with Sergeant Hannell of the Military Police. I’m John Brooke, personal assistant to Simon Mellor, Lieutenant Clarke’s lawyer.”  
“One moment, Sir,” the guard acknowledged before returning to the booth to consult his book of daily appointments. Spotting the last minute addition, he nodded to himself before returning to the car.

“Yes, Sir. Sergeant Hannell is expecting you,” he bent down to point down the long driveway. “Follow this road down to that building on the left, take a left and then the second right, the guard house is at the end. I’ll phone through, someone will be there to meet you, Sir.”  
“Thank you,” Frank replied bringing his arm back into the car and raising the glass, relieved that the first step was over. “Well, we’re in,” he spoke whilst looking into the rear view mirror. He knew this wasn’t the worst bit, even getting Mikey to convincingly act the part of Gary Clarke’s lawyer wouldn’t be the worst.

Following the directions, it was only a matter of minutes before the car pulled up outside the guard house. Frank, Ray and Mikey all stepped from the car. Out of uncertainty, Frank glanced at Mikey to see if the sudden freedom had given him any ideas of escape, but it was clear that they had made their point and he was waiting with them without drawing any attention to himself. Frank smiled inwardly, believing that they may actually pull this off. As the door opened, Frank looked up from his thoughts as a Military Police Officer walked purposefully towards them.

“Good afternoon, I’m Sergeant Hannell,” he introduced himself addressing Frank, “you must be Clarke’s lawyer.”  
“I’m Simon Mellor,” Mikey stepped forward, “I am Lieutenant Clarke’s lawyer.”  
Momentarily thrown off-balance by the insistence of using Clarke’s rank, Hannell re-focussed his attention on Mikey.

“Mistor Mellor,” Hannell nodded as he held out his hand to Mikey.  
“Sergeant,” Mikey took his hand in a firm shake, “thank you for accommodating us at such short notice.  
“I’ll take you through, come this way.”

Mikey, Frank and Ray followed; all seemed to be going well.

“I was surprised to get your call,” Hannell commented, “I thought Lieutenant Clarke was going to use a military lawyer. With all his accounts frozen, I didn’t think he could afford a civilian lawyer.”

Frank’s eyes opened wide at the comment; it would be hard enough even to explain their presence, but he was impressed by Mikey’s unflinching reply.

“I’m a friend of the family, I came as soon as I heard.”  
“I’m surprised he didn’t call you himself,” Hannell replied.  
“He wouldn’t,” Mikey sighed. “We don’t exactly get on; like I said, I’m a friend of the family.”  
“A friend of his wife?” Hannell chuckled to himself. “Yeah, that figures.”  
“I’d like to see my client,” Mikey replied sternly. “In private.”  
“I’m sorry, I can’t allow that, a member of military personnel must be present at all times.”  
“Sergeant Hannell,” Mikey cut in sternly, “are you denying my client his basic rights?”  
“No, Sir,” Hannell stopped and turned to face the three men.  
“My client has the right to private consultation with his lawyer. Private, Sergeant.”  
“Yes, Sir,” he sighed as he escorted the trio to the cell. Opening the door, he stood back while the men walked in. “Thirty minutes only.”

Frank waited until the door was closed and he heard the footsteps moving away before turning back to face the cell’s occupant.

“Who are you?” asked Clarke.  
“Friends of Bob, we’re getting you out,” Frank replied simply.  
“Out of here?” he laughed. “There’s no way…”  
“Shut up,” Frank ordered, “we don’t have time. Strip.”  
“What the…!”  
“Just do it!” Frank snapped. “You’re going to exchange clothes with David,” he jabbed a thumb at Ray, “and you’re going to walk out of here.”  
“Are you crazy?” Clarke snapped. “There’s no way…”  
“Do you have a better idea?”  
Gary Clarke frowned at the question. Of course, he didn’t. The only future he saw for himself was one behind bars; this could well be his only chance.  
“What about him?” he nodded at Ray.  
“I’ll say you attacked us, took my clothes and forced your way out with Simon and John as hostages.”  
“They’re not you’re real names, are they?”  
“You don’t need to know anything more than we’ve told you, now strip, quickly, we don’t have long.”

In a matter of only a few minutes, Clarke was slipping on the jacket of ray’s suit leaving Ray, slightly chilled, standing in only his boxers and socks.

“And you’re supposed to convince them I attacked you?” Clarke frowned. “How exactly? There’s not a mark on you.”  
Ray glanced at Frank.  
“There’s not much I can do about that, I’m not risking hurting you. You need to be fit for work,” Frank replied with a shrug.  
“I’m trained,” Clarke cut in, “I can hit him, he’ll be out for a few minutes, no damage.”  
“No,” Frank insisted. “It’ll still hurt.”  
“Fr… John,” Ray sighed, “if it’ll help, it’s okay, really.”  
“I knew you were using fake names,” Clark laughed to himself. “I need something to hit him with.”  
“Like what?” Frank asked.  
“A gun?”  
Frank allowed himself a small laugh. “I’m not giving you a gun. Do you think I’m stupid?”  
“Clearly not.” Clarke frowned before slipping off one of his shoes. “Turn around.”

Ray turned his back on the soldier, closing his eyes, his face screwed up in readiness for the expected blow.

“Before you do anything,” Frank cut in. “Remember, no damage, or you’re dead.”  
“Don’t worry,” Clarke assured him. “He’ll be fine.”

Ray felt the heel of the shoe brought down swiftly behind his ear and within moments he was on his knees, his fingers over the bleeding wound. Still conscious Ray fell onto his left hand for support as Clarke cleaned the heel of blood on the bed sheets and pulled it back on.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked with concern.  
“Yeah,” Ray replied, a little groggily. “You better go.”

“Sergeant!” Mikey called, waiting as Clarke adjusted the glasses on his nose.

The door opened and the three exited quickly pulling the door closed behind them.

“I want to ask you a few questions, Sergeant,” Mikey drew his attention as the others headed out and towards the waiting car. “Tell me, from your own impressions of him, do you think he’s guilty?”  
“That’s not for me to say,” the sergeant replied carefully believing the lawyer to be trying to trip him up.  
“No, I know,” Mikey nodded. “But I’d be interested to hear your opinion.”  
“He’s been pretty tight-lipped,” the man admitted. “My experience is that innocent men are quite vocal.”

Already at the door, with Frank and Clarke now waiting in the car, Mikey nodded.  
“That’s useful to know. Thank you, Sergeant.”

Sliding in beside Clarke, Mikey heaved a sigh as Frank drove away. They were not clear yet though, they still had to get past the gate.  
❮


	13. New perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey gains an unexpected new perspective and Frank is intrigued

It seemed to take an age to drive back to the gate and all the while the silence in the car hung thick and heavy. Each of the men had their own reason to be nervous. Clarke was desperate for his freedom, and silently prayed they would get away with no problems. Frank was worried about Ray. He still had to convince the guard that Clarke had attacked him and forced the others to get him off the base. That would be no mean task and Ray would have to use all his skills to make them believe the idea; assuming of course, that they could get away before he was discovered.

Mikey’s breathing was laboured and shallow as he tried to keep a panic attack at bay; now was not the time to bring out an inhaler. The consequences of being stopped and arrested were too dire for him to consider. He thought back to Frank’s tale about being imprisoned for merely being known by the gang who tried to rob the store where he worked. He had been trying to prevent the robbery and had suffered terrible a terrible and unjust penalty. However unwillingly he had acted, Mikey had been instrumental in helping a criminal escape justice. He had done far more that Frank had to warrant his first prison stay and somehow, he doubted that many people would believe that he had been forced into it.

Glancing to his right, Mikey eyed the man they were helping escape and no matter how many times he mulled it over in his mind, he could not understand why they were helping him. He clearly didn’t know them, he only knew Bob. He didn’t ask after him, so Mikey presumed he wasn’t family or even a real friend. The only possibility that made any sense to him was that this man’s arrest could somehow lead the police back to Frank and his gang. One last observation he made was that he did not like Gary Clarke one iota. The man appeared selfish and arrogant and certainly the type who would only look out for himself.

Mikey had been a lawyer now for several years. His knowledge of the law, his attention to detail and his calm easy-going manner had made him very successful. But now he was beginning to observe things on a different level and he was truly surprised by what he saw. He would be the first to admit that the working of the criminal mind was something that he had never fully understood. Yes, he understood that they broke the law and he understood motive, but there was something beneath it all that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. It was like a shadow – recognisable, predictable, yet intangible. Frank had given him some insight into his world and in smaller ways so had Bob and Ray. There was a camaraderie and an honesty he had not expected and, despite his expectations, found himself admiring. But this man, Clarke, he apparently had none of their redeeming qualities. He was the type of man he had expected all criminals to be like, the reason he did the job he did. He wondered how wrong he had been about others and if Frank had made assumptions about him too.

At the final approach to the gatehouse, Clarke picked up the mock up of a case file that Frank had brought with him and, lowering his head, pretended to study the notes. To the casual observer, it was a lawyer familiarising himself and carefully checking the finer points of the case, but if anyone were to look close at the file, they would see immediately that none of the notes made any real sense and were merely sections of text copied from various legal sites found on the Internet. Naturally they all hoped that no one would care to even look inside the care.

Frank lowered the driver’s side window and leaned out as the guard approached.

“Name?” the gate guard asked in a tone that suggested that his job had taken that final step beyond routine and into full-blown boredom.  
“John Brooke,” Frank replied, his voice remarkably relaxed and calm.  
The guard frowned slightly. “Just a minute.”

Frank and Mikey watched as the guard returned to the gatehouse and appeared to be consulting something on the table. Frank tapped the steering wheel; his nerves on edge.

“What’s going on?” Clarke muttered, unwilling to look up for fear of being recognised.  
“He’s back in the gate house looking at something,” Mikey replied before gasping with surprise at the next thing he saw. “He’s on the phone.”  
“They know!” Clarke hissed from the back seat. “Put your foot down!”  
“I’m not leaving Ray if it’s gone wrong,” Frank whispered, briefly glancing over his shoulder.

The ends of Mikey’s lips turned up slightly. Once again, Frank had displayed a level of integrity and honour that was simply beyond his sphere of experience. But of course, he realised, that his experience was actually very limited. The half smile faded as the contradiction of Frank’s readiness to kill re-entered his mind. The lost smile turned swiftly into a frown as Clarke spoke again.

“Listen,” he growled, “I’m not risking going back there because you have some stupid loyalty to that loser.”

  
Frank turned back, a deep scowl fixed upon his face, but before he had the chance to utter a single word and much to his surprise, Mikey turned on the man at his side.

  
“That loser, as you call him,” Mikey snapped while still keeping his voice low, “just risked everything to save your sorry ass. We all have. So I suggest you keep your head down and your mouth shut.”  
“Or what?” Clarke scowled.  
Mikey returned with an intense sneer plastered across his face.  
“Or I’ll pretend to wrestle a gun from your grip and turn you in. Who’s going to believe that we rescued you only to turn you in moments later? And David?” Mikey added referring to Ray’s assumed name. “Do you think they’ll believe you when you say he volunteered to be attacked by you?”  
“When they find out you’re not a lawyer, then they’ll believe me!”  
Mikey’s grin widened. “Ah, but I am a lawyer and I deal with low-lifes like you every day, so don’t think you can get one over on me. You don’t stand a chance.”

Frank turned back as the guard approached. So taken aback was he that he had even forgotten to be concerned about the guard’s absence.

“You the lawyers?” the guard asked as he returned to the car.  
“That’s right,” Frank nodded.  
“Sorry about the delay, the entry was listed under your firm’s name.”  
Frank sighed. “Yes, sorry, I forgot. My assistant did mention that.”  
“It’s not a problem, Sir,” the guard almost smiled as he raised the barrier. “Have a nice day.”  
“Thank you,” Frank replied politely as he raised the window and tried his hardest not to drive off too fast and draw attention.Once out of sight of the gate, Frank wasted no time in putting distance between them and the base.

Pulling up in a quiet street, Frank opened the door, releasing the seatbelt and climbing out in what seemed like a seamless fluid movement. Heading to the passenger side back door, he pulled it open and looked down at Clarke.

“Get out,” he ordered angrily.  
Clarke slid from the seat and stood next to Frank. Even though he was taller, it was obvious that Frank refused to be intimidated by him.  
“You didn’t see us, you don’t know us. You’ll never contact Bob again and if you so much as hint that you had any dealings with him, we’ll find you and next time we’ll kill you. Got it?”  
Clarke merely scowled in reply and turned to leave only to be grabbed by Frank and pulled back to face him.  
“Got it!” he repeated. It was a statement, not a question; Clarke was left in no doubt of what was expected of him.  
“I got it.”  
“One more thing,” Frank began before releasing his grip, “anything happens to our friend back at the base, you’re dead.”  
“There’s nothing I can do about that!” he protested.  
“Then you better start praying, hadn’t you!” Frank snapped in reply as he pushed the man away from the car and watched as he headed off.

Frank turned back to see Mikey standing on the opposite side of the car.  
“You’re going nowhere!” he snapped, “Don’t forget about the trigger device.”  
“You seem to think my memory is really poor,” Mikey replied cocking his head to the side. Walking around the front of the car, he slid into the front passenger seat, much to Frank’s astonishment. “Shouldn’t we be heading for the rendezvous point?”

Frank’s astounded expression soon melted into an appreciative smile.  
“New Mikey, I like him,” he commented as he slid in behind the wheel.  
“No, same old Mikey, new perspective.”  
“Either way, I like him.”  
“You liked him before,” Mikey taunted Frank.  
“Where did that speech come from at the gatehouse?”  
“Like I said, new perspective.”  
Frank nodded. “Okay, but one thing though, I don’t appreciate being called a low-life.”  
Mikey turned his head slowly to stare at Frank.  
“I called him a low-life, not you.”  
“You’re saying there’s a difference between him and me?” Frank asked, surprised by the sudden turn of events.  
“There was a time when I would have been blinkered and not see past the charge or the rap sheet. Now, I see the people and yes, there’s a big difference.”  
Frank sat in silence for a few moments as he considered Mikey’s words before turning the key in the ignition. Mikey was proving to be intriguing.  
❮


	14. Ray Toro - Moment Killer!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank thinks that Ray's timing just couldn't be worse

Sergeant Hannell headed back down the long corridor towards Clarke’s cell. His lawyers hadn’t stayed long; in fact they had left in a surprising hurry. Hannell smiled to himself as he thought about how troubled they must be trying to defend a man who was so clearly guilty.

Clarke’s senior officers had suspected him for a long time and had quietly noted when items of equipment apparently went missing only to reappear shortly after. They suspected he was supplying the devices for black-marketeers or for other Governments to copy. The reality was much more mundane, but just as serious. However, thankfully, as Bob had suspected, Clarke had not by that point named him as an accomplice.

Hannell inspected the cell through the small inset hatch and frowned as he initially saw no one. Glancing to the sides before looking down, Hannell finally spotted Ray lying sprawled on the floor.

“Fuck!” Hannell cried as he pushed the key into the lock and, drawing his pistol, opened the cell door.

Quickly scanning the cell, he soon realised that Ray was the only occupant, lying in only his underwear and apparently unconscious it was obvious to Hannell what had happened. Ignoring Ray, he pulled the radio from his belt and spoke to the gate house only to learn that they had long since left the base. Turning his eyes to look down at Ray, Hannell screamed his frustration. The lawyers had left in a hurry and one had, he realised now, very strangely been asking him somewhat inappropriate questions as he left. Had he been forced to draw his attention away from Clarke? He had to find out what had happened inside the cell.

Calling to a colleague to alert the base commander of the escape and to call a doctor, Hannell knelt down at Ray’s side.

“Sir, can you hear me?” he asked, shaking his shoulder gently.

Awake all along, albeit still slightly woozy from the blow, Ray groaned softly at the sound of his voice.

“Sir?” he called again, this time louder.  
“Yeah… yeah…” Ray replied, groggily as if waking to find himself seriously disorientated.  
“I’ve called for a doctor for you,” the military police officer stated, still trying to coax him to wake.  
“Wha…?” Ray drawled. “What happened?”  
“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Ray pushed himself almost into a kneeling position, only to half collapse again down onto his elbows.

“Hey! Steady!” Hannell cried, helping Ray find his balance.

Ray turned his head to look at Hannell, his eyes screwed up as he squinted, hisexpression a mixture of pain and confusion.

  
“Where are my glasses?” he asked, referring to the fake ones he had worn to assist with Clarke’s disguise.

  
Hannell looked around, but they were nowhere in sight.

  
“I can’t see them, I’ll find them in a minute. What happened?”  
“He had a gun,” Ray finally stated, his tone exhibiting his astonishment at the idea. “How did you not know he had a gun?”  
“No,” Hannell argued, “there’s no way he had a weapon.”  
“Really?” Ray snapped. “Then how do you account for this?” he added pressing his fingers lightly to the painful area behind his ear. Then, as if he had only just become aware, he let out a short gasp of surprise. “And… and he took my clothes!”

Ray pushed himself to his feet and staggered to a chair, flopping down heavily, looking as though he was willing his head to clear and for the pain to subside.

  
“Where are the others?” he asked, turning a worried expression towards the sergeant.  
“They got away,” Hannell replied dismissively. “What happened?”  
“You mean, he got away. He took them with him?” he corrected. “He took them hostage?”  
“He’s probably let them go by now.”  
“I work with these guys! How can you be so flippant? Don’t you think you’d have heard from them if he had?”  
“Fine, we’ll start a search, but first, tell me what happened.”  
Ray sighed. “We walked in and you closed the door. Simon explained that he had been contacted by a member of his family and asked to represent him. He’d no sooner got the words out than Clarke had a gun on us.”  
“Where did he have it hidden?”  
“I’m not sure, I was getting the papers out of the briefcase. I think it was just in his pocket.” Ray shrugged indicating his uncertainty. “He had us all up against the wall. I was terrified, I thought he was going to kill us. Then he just cracked me over the head and that’s the last I remember. What do you know?”  
Hannell frowned. “I didn’t suspect a thing. The three of you were in there about ten minutes then left. The short guy went off with the guy I thought was you while the lawyer almost pulled me aside as we walked and asked me some odd questions before he left too.”  
Ray heaved a sigh.  
“I guess he had the gun on John and made Simon distract you so he could get out.”  
“Looks that way,” Hannell sighed. “I’ve raised the alarm but I suspect he’s long gone. It’s going to have to be handed over to the state police to find him now.”  
“Sergeant,” a voice called from the corridor as another military police officer approached the cell. “There’s been a call from John Brooke and Simon Mellor, Clarke’s lawyers.”  
“Are they all right?” Ray cut in, concerned.  
“Yes, Sir,” the officer replied. “They said Clarke ditched them and drove off. They’ve only just got to a phone.”  
“Where are they?” Ray asked urgently.  
“They’re on their way to the Grace and Mercy Hospital,” the newcomer replied.  
"Why?" Ray asked in a shocked tone. "They're hurt? What did he do?"  
"I... I didn't ask, sir," the officer replied sheepishly.  
“I’ve called for the base doctor for you,” Hannell reminded him.  
“Please,” Ray argued, “I have to make sure they’re all right and let them know I am.”  
“I have a lot of questions for you,” Hannell replied shaking his head.  
“Sergeant, I'm going to the hospital to see my colleagues and for treatment myself and I'm going now. You know where I work and I can give you my home details, you can contact me any time.”  
“All right, but I at least want a written statement first while we get you some clothes and I’ll arrange for you to be driven.”  
“Thank you,” Ray replied gratefully.

*

Having driven to a quiet underpass, Frank and Mikey had each removed one of the fake license plates from above the real ones on the car before driving on to the rendezvous point: the top floor of a large ten storey parking garage for an out of town shopping mall.

The overbearing stillness in the car allowed the sound of the engine pinging lightly as it cooled to invade the two men’s thoughts before Frank finally broke the silence.

“So,” he ventured, “tell me about your girlfriend.”  
Mikey smiled. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”  
“How ‘ex’?”  
“Oh, believe me, she’s ‘ex’, very ‘ex’!”  
“Why?”  
“Why do you want to know?” Mikey asked; his tone more curious than suspicious.  
Frank shrugged. “We’ve got time to kill until Ray gets here.”  
“What do you want to know?” Mikey asked distractedly.  
“Why did you split up?”  
Mikey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  
“That’s a good question,” he sighed. “And if I was certain of the answer, I’d tell you.”  
“Arguments? Affair? Want different things? Couldn’t commit?” Frank offered.  
“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, “all of those, but nothing in particular.”  
“What did you argue about, then?”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mikey shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really care. I spent our whole relationship just going through the motions, assuming things would get better if I put the effort in.”  
“And did they?” Frank asked sympathetically.  
Mikey shook his head sadly. “No, because that was the main problem; it always felt like an effort. It was never easy or fun. I always begrudged giving my time up for her. And you know, I wanted to feel bad about it, but I just didn’t.”  
“It sounds familiar,” Frank replied tentatively.

  
Mikey glanced at Frank briefly, at first uncertain over what he meant.

  
“Oh, no,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that.”  
“I went through the same thing,” Frank pointed out in an attempt to reassure him.  
“I… no. It’s not like that, really. We just didn’t get on.”  
“Okay,” Frank nodded. “It’s different.”  
“Yeah,” Mikey confirmed.  
“Why are you telling me?” Frank asked.  
Mikey’s brow furrowed at the odd question. “Because you asked me.”  
“It’s easy to talk with me?”  
“Oh,” Mikey nodded, “clever! I told you…”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Frank nodded. “You told me. It’s not like that. In fact, I forced you to talk to me.”  
“How do I know you’re not going to flick that switch and kill Gerard if I don’t?”  
Frank let out a short laugh. “You don’t really think that.”  
“You’ve threatened me, you’ve threatened him and…”  
“What if I told you I’ve never killed anyone?”  
“I don’t believe you,” Mikey replied with a frown.  
“Why? Would you do it?”  
“No!” Mikey replied quickly, shocked by the idea.  
“So what makes you think I could?”  
“I don’t go around threatening people,” Mikey snapped in reply. “Or kidnapping them!”  
“No. You have relationships with people you don’t care about. I’d say that was harder and harsher than anything I do!”

Mikey paused for a few moments as he considered Frank’s words.  
“So, do you mean to say that you won’t actually kill Gerard?”

Frank stared back contemplating what to say. He wanted so much for the plan to go without a hitch, but so much had gone wrong already. He also wanted Mikey and felt closer now than he had ever felt to him. The chances still seemed very slim, but it seemed to him that he had found a dent in Mikey’s armour. Was it possible that he could break through?  
If he said he would kill Gerard, Mikey would doubt and fear him. If he said he wouldn’t, Mikey may try to escape. Frank sighed and allowed his shoulders to drop as he considered the two miserable options. Who was he kidding? Mikey would make a run for it; there was no doubt in his mind.

“Well?” Mikey pushed.  
Frank delved into his pocket and retrieved the fake trigger mechanism. Holding his hand out, he offered the black box to Mikey.  
“It doesn’t do anything,” he announced.  
“You’re letting me go?” Mikey asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty.  
“Not exactly,” Frank replied carefully.

“That went really well!” Ray announced as he pulled open the door and slid into the back seat.  
“Ray!” Frank replied, flustered by his sudden appearance.  
“Are you okay?” he asked with concern before turning his gaze to Mikey. “How come he’s not wearing handcuffs?”  
“We… we’ve just been chatting,” Frank replied.  
“That’s sweet,” Ray commented dryly as he stepped out of the car again. Opening the passenger door, Ray leaned across Mikey and took the proffered handcuffs from Frank.  
“Hands,” Ray ordered.  
Reluctantly, Mikey placed his hands behind him and allowed Ray to secure the cuffs on his wrists. Keeping his eyes lowered, Mikey refused to catch Frank’s eye as he stared at him.  
“It’s getting late, we should head back,” Frank finally announced with a slight sigh as Ray returned to his seat.


	15. Look at all the confusion you've caused, Mikey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank, Ray and Bob are seriously out of their comfort zones

“How’s your head?” Mikey asked, aware that Ray was angry; he tried to appease him.  
“It’s fine,” he snapped, “Don’t worry, I’m thinking well enough to know what you’re up to.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Ray leaned forward and pulled Mikey’s left shoulder back against the seat.  
“Don’t play games with me, Way, your pretty little face doesn’t hold any sway with me.”  
“It’s not what you think,” Mikey replied but stopped short of actually explaining; Ray seemed too angry to even consider listening to him.  
“Back off, Ray!” Frank snapped, frowning briefly into the rear view mirror hoping to catch Ray’s eye.  
“See!” Ray scowled. “It’s exactly what I thought!”

Slumping back into his seat, Ray seethed with anger. As far as he could see Mikey was playing Frank for a fool, and Frank was falling for it.

Without another word, Frank turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. It was already starting to go dark and there was very little chance of anyone noticing that Mikey was handcuffed, nevertheless, Frank deliberately kept to quieter roads even though the journey would be longer. In complete silence, the journey seemed twice as long. For the main part, Mikey looked down or out of the window, anywhere but at Frank. The one occasion he had briefly glanced in his direction, Ray had thumped the back of his seat as a warning.

Driving into the garage at his house, Frank sighed heavily as he switched off the engine and lights. By the time he had unbuckled his seatbelt, Ray was already dragging Mikey from the car.

“Ray,” Frank pleaded, “you’ve got it wrong, listen to me.”  
“We’ll discuss this inside, first I’ll deal with pretty boy, here.”

Mikey pulled out of Ray’s grip and spun on his heels only to pull up sharp as he realised the garage door was already closed and he had nowhere to run.

“Mikey, please…” Frank called, willing him to be still. Ray was furious and likely to hurt him, if only to get revenge for Gerard biting his fingers.

Now with his back to the garage door, Mikey turned his head to look at Frank, realising too late that he was trying to help him.The first blow sunk deep into his abdomen, winding him, he sank to his knees and doubled over in agony. The second came like a hammer between his shoulder blades. Mikey hit the floor slumping onto his side with his legs curled up, gasping for breath.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Way! You may have Frank fooled but not me!”  
“Ray, you’ve got it all wrong,” Frank pulled at his arm.  
“Have I? Ray turned to ask. “Or was he coming on to you?”  
“No,” Frank shook his head. “We were just talking.”  
“So how come when I got in the car, you were offering him the trigger device?”  
“I told him it didn’t do anything,” Frank replied with a sigh. “But he…”  
“He didn’t get chance to run, because I turned up.” Ray threw his hands in the air in frustration. “We’re not going to discuss this here.”

Reaching down, Ray pulled Mikey to his feet and dragged him through the door into the house with Frank following behind.Hearing them return, Bob was in the hallway and watched with silent curiosity as Ray stormed past him, dragging Mikey with him and headed for the cellar door.

“You can walk down or I can push you down, it’s up to you,” Ray said gruffly.

Without a word, Mikey stepped ahead of him and walked downstairs into the room that had become his prison. At the bottom of the stairs he turned to face Ray.

“Look, it’s not what you think, we were just talking.”  
“You were trying to get him to let you go.”  
Mikey took a deep breath. “Do I want to get out of here? Of course I fucking do! And if he’d let me go, yeah, I would have gone, but I’m not doing whatever it is you think I’m doing.”

Ray emitted a short laugh, unimpressed by Mikey’s response. “Do you really think I’m going to believe you? You just said it yourself, you want to get out and you know what? I don’t blame you. But here’s the deal, you’re not going anywhere, not now, not ever. Understand? You think you’re just gonna walk out of here? A lawyer? Knowing where Frank lives? Knowing who we are?”  
“Frank said he’d never killed anyone before.”  
“What the fuck!” Ray spluttered finding it hard to believe that Frank had been so honest with him. “Lie down!”

Mikey lowered himself onto the mattress as Ray reached for the handcuffs on the nearby table. Securing Mikey’s ankles, Ray stood up.  
“You don’t know how lucky you are that you’re not already dead!” Ray announced with venom in his voice before turning and heading quickly back upstairs.

Frank was sitting at the table with his chin resting in his hand as Ray entered the room, not even bothering to look up, he sighed as he heard the door slam.

“So, what’s going on, Frank?”  
“Ease up, Ray,” Bob cut in, “Frank’s just been telling me what’s been going on. You’re overreacting.”  
“Am I? Really?” Ray frowned. “So what did he tell you? Did he say he was on the verge of letting him go? Did he say that he told him that we’ve never killed anyone before?”  
Bob’s eyes widened at Ray’s response. “Er… Frank? Did you leave anything else out?”  
“No,” Frank finally looked up. “But there are things you don’t know too…”  
“Look, Frank,” Ray interrupted. “I noticed yesterday, but I said nothing, but you’ve gone too far. I know you find him attractive and I’m sure he’s adorable, but don’t put our lives at risk just because you want to get into his pants!”

Frank rose slowly from the table and turned to face Ray, his fists clenched as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hold in his anger.  
“Fuck you, Ray! You’ve made up your mind and you won’t even listen to what I have to say.”  
“I can’t think of one single thing that would make me see this any differently,” Ray snapped as he glared back at Frank’s outburst.  
“Well, for one thing, that whole rescue of Bob’s smart mouthed associate would never have worked without him!”  
“We forced him to do that!” Ray yelled, still unimpressed by what he heard.  
“Nobody forced him to do what he did in the car after we left,” Frank replied secure in the knowledge that it may well shut Ray up.

Ray paused and stared thoughtfully at Frank. This was something Frank had kept to himself until now. Was it really because he hadn’t given him chance to speak? Ray thought back over his handling of the situation; certainly he thought he knew everything he needed to know and whilst Frank had said nothing to the contrary, he hadn’t, if he were entirely honest, given him the chance to say anything.

“What happened in the car?” he asked quietly.

Frank felt some of the tension slip away from him as he was finally getting the chance to explain, but even he knew that it could plausibly turn out to be a ‘you-had-to-be-there’ moment. It was up to him to explain it well.

“When we got to the gatehouse, there was a hold up, it turned out to be a mix up over the names in the day’s visitor book, but we didn’t know. Clarke was about to make a run for it and Mikey stopped him. I’d said we wouldn’t leave you if it had gone wrong and Clarke was only interested in himself. Mikey threatened him, he forced him to stay put and shut up. You should have seen him; he was really impressive. After we ditched Clarke, he helped remove the plates and when we got to the rendezvous point, we started talking. He said he thought Clarke was a low-life, but not us. What we’re doing might be wrong, but we have a lot of qualities that he admired in us. Ray, he saved our necks. He didn’t have to. In fact, it would have been better for him if he hadn’t. I don’t know why he did it, but he did. He wasn’t trying to escape, even when I gave him the perfect opportunity he didn’t go.”

Ray looked down as he took in Frank’s final words. Mikey had saved his life, all of their lives and had been yelled at and beaten up for his trouble. Looking up once more, Ray tried to get to grips with what Frank had just told them.

“So, what are you saying?” he asked, even more confused. “He likes you?”  
“I don’t think so, he’s pretty certain about that.” Frank shrugged. “I think it’s something else.”  
“What?” Ray asked stunned at the reply.  
“I honestly don’t know. He helped us, Ray, that’s all I know.”  
“I should go back and apologise?” Ray asked, uncertain over how they should now treat their hostage.

Frank glanced between Ray and Bob looking for guidance. He was confused and uncertain over what to do. He knew he could plan all he liked, but they had introduced two new and unknown people into the mix and it was throwing them all severely off balance.

“Ray, I’ve never done this before, none of us have. I said yesterday that I was just playing it by ear but despite my complete inexperience in this, I’m pretty sure this isn’t supposed to happen!”

The trio stared at each other, baffled by the situation. Mikey had crossed a line with them and they were ill-prepared to know how to deal with it. It was almost as if he had enjoyed the thrill of breaking the law. Was it possible?

“Look,” Frank nodded to himself. “Let’s just carry on as if everything is normal and get ready for tonight. We have enough to think about without this.”

Ray and Bob took Frank’s lead and gave slight nod’s.

“Okay,” Frank sighed with a little relief. Even though nothing was resolved, they had at least agreed their next steps. “We’ll meet back here at seven-thirty.”  
❮


	16. Frank's not the only one with plans

“One thing I should tell you now.” Bob spoke quietly looking to one side as he did.

  
Before replying, Frank noticed that from the expression on Ray’s face, he knew exactly what was coming.

  
“What’s wrong?” Frank asked; the curiosity he felt was more than evident on his face.

  
Bob turned his head back, but still averted his eyes.

  
“This is my last job, Frank. I’m going to find Alison and try to get custody of Dan, legally, through the courts. I know it’ll be tough, and having a record won’t help, but I have to get him away from her. She’s a drunk, and I’m pretty sure she hits him.”

The revelation hit hard from two angles, certainly Frank, but not even Ray knew how bad things were for his son and whilst they completely understood what Bob needed to do, the loss to their group would be severe. Bob stared at the pair in front of him; he believed he knew Ray’s thoughts on the matter; after all it had been Ray who had finally convinced him to try for custody, but Frank? Frank was an unknown entity on this subject.Bob was always much closer to Ray on a social level and had poured his heart out to him on more than one occasion.

“I’m sorry, Frank, I don’t want to leave you high and dry, but this is something…”  
“Bob!” Frank interrupted with a sympathetic smile. “It’s fine, really. I know I don’t know much about it, but I knew enough to realise that this day would happen sooner rather than later. I’m sorry your son’s having such a raw deal. He’s lucky he has such a caring dad.”  
“But… you and Ray…”  
“We’ll manage,” Frank reassured him. “The proceeds of this raid are going to be higher than we’ve ever seen, so who knows, this may be our last job too?”  
“You’re sure it’s okay?”  
“Of course I’m sure,” Frank’s smile broadened into a grin. “In fact, my gift to will be to get a private investigator on the case to prove the mistreatment. I know it won’t be pleasant for you to see, but it’ll help you win your case.”  
“Frank… I…”

Bob was speechless at the gesture and merely threw his arms around him by way of a thank you. Joining the hug, Ray added his encouragement to the troubled ex-soldier.

*

Gerard heard the doorbell and glanced at his watch with some surprise. Pushing himself out of the chair he headed for the hallway. On opening the door, Gerard took a sharp step back as Mikey, still handcuffed, was pushed towards him, immediately followed by Frank, Ray and Bob.

“Mikes! Are you okay?” he asked surprised by their arrival.  
“I’m fine, Gee,” Mikey replied, surprisingly convincingly; emphasising his answer with a firm nod. “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”  
“I… I’m fine, I was just worried about you, that’s all.”  
“Ah, touching,” Frank smiled as he closed the door. “But you’re lying. You weren’t expecting us, where you, Gerard? You were expecting the cops, weren’t you?”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gerard pulled Mikey aside and stood next to him protectively.  
“Ray,” Frank sighed, “why don’t you show him?”

  
Ray stepped past Gerard, shouldering him as the walked towards the phone. Deftly removing the cover, Ray extracted a small disc, no larger than a watch battery.

“We’ve listened to every call you’ve made, including several to the cops. That’s very rude, Gerard. And after we showed you so much trust, too.”

Gerard frowned deeply; at once bitterly disappointed that he had been found out and irritated by their condescending manner.

“So much that you bugged my phone?”

  
Frank merely smiled in return.

  
“You’ll be pleased to hear that your brother didn’t suffer for your transgressions.”  
“That’s very big of you,” Gerard snapped unable to contain his resentment.

  
Frank took a deep, angry breath.

  
“Bob.”  
“No!” Gerard cried as he shielded Mikey from whatever was coming.  
“No, Gerard,” Mikey begged, “don’t be like this, please.”

It was as if Mikey had an inkling of what was about to happen. Bob launched a right hook, but instead of aiming for Mikey, his fist connected sharply with Gerard’s jaw, sending him spinning to the floor. Gerard lay for a few moments, sprawled on the floor, dizzy and in considerable pain.

“Get up!” Frank ordered. “And stop wasting our time, we’re leaving now, before the cops arrive. I know you think you’re smart, Way, but I’ve been doing this for years.”

Gerard pushed himself first to his knees as he regained his composure, then to his feet, glaring harshly at Bob, who stared impassively back. There seemed little he could do to stall; they were heading immediately for the bank, two hours earlier than he had expected.It seemed likely that the robbery would be completed before the police had even arrived at Gerard’s apartment.Inwardly and silently, Gerard cursed himself for using his house phone to make the calls to the police.

“Let’s go,” Frank ordered.

  
As he headed towards the door, Bob pushed Gerard into the wall and held him there.

  
“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Frank said with a chuckle. “Like your brother, you’ll be handcuffed.And,” Frank drew near, “I don’t expect any trouble out of you. You step out of line… well, I think you know.”

Gerard gritted his teeth bitterly as his hands were pulled behind him and secured with cold steel.

  
“It’s okay, Gee,” Mikey reassured him. “Just go with it. Trust me, it’ll be okay.”

  
Gerard glanced briefly at his brother as they were both led from the apartment. Was he naïve or did he have a plan of his own? Gerard could only hope that he would find out soon.

*

“Your car’s a nice drive, Way,” Frank commented as he pulled into Gerard’s parking space at the bank.

  
Gerard scowled at him from the back seat. He and Mikey, now both handcuffed, were seated in the back of Gerard’s own car with Bob sitting between them.

  
“What’s wrong with using your car?” Gerard asked bitterly.  
“Who’s going to question that the assistant manager’s car is sitting in its own space?”  
“At this time of night, they might,” Gerard replied.  
“Well, possibly, or they’ll think you’ve gone out for the night and left it here? Or they won’t think about it at all. But they will notice if it’s another car.”

  
Gerard frowned; was there anything he hadn’t considered?

Ray, sitting in the passenger seat, opened a small laptop computer and began to type furiously. Briefly pausing, he tapped the side of the keyboard irritably.

“There’s another code here, Way, what are you keeping from us?”  
“N… nothing,” Gerard stammered, glancing briefly at Mikey, before noticing the glare Frank had aimed at him.  
“What’re you trying to pull?” Frank growled.  
“You were there! You saw me write everything down.”  
“Well, there’s something else,” Ray added. “And I don’t know how to disable it. If we can’t do this now, Way, you’re a dead man. Trust me.”  
“Wait,” Gerard stared at nothing as he concentrated hard. “Can you see where it is? It might help.”  
“It’s somewhere in the vault room, I can’t be more accurate than that.”  
Gerard sighed and nodded.  
“It’s the bunker,” he replied with relief, drawing in a deep breath.  
“Bunker?” Frank repeated incredulously.  
“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, “the bank was built during the height of the cold war. It was fitted with a secure bunker to protect priceless art and things like that, in the event of a war.”  
Frank laughed at the idea. “The world is an apocalyptic wasteland, but at least the paintings are safe?”  
“Something like that,” Gerard replied dryly.  
“Okay,” Ray replied, satisfied by the explanation, “give me a few more minutes.”  
“What are you doing?” Gerard asked irritably. “Even if you can get the alarm systems down, you won’t be able to open the vaults, they’re on a timer. They can’t be opened until the morning.”  
“Yes and one other thing you failed to tell us,” Frank turned to Gerard again. “The vault doors are linked to a tremor alert that goes straight to the police if we try to blow it.”  
“How did you find that out?” Gerard replied, open-mouthed.  
“We’re good at what we do, Way, that’s how were still doing it!”  
“So you know you can’t blow the vault, why are you even bothering?” Gerard asked.  
“Gee,” Mikey whispered. “Why are you doing this? They’ll hurt you. Ditch the attitude.”

  
Frank glanced at Mikey and nodded.

  
“Bob,” he said with a deep sigh. “Check him for a wire.”  
“Gee?” Mikey gasped at the idea that his brother would do something so stupid and worse, that he would draw attention to it.  
“I’m not wearing a wire!” Gerard insisted as Bob ripped open his shirt without even bothering with the buttons.  
The search of his upper body revealed nothing.  
“I could search all over,” Bob explained. “If you’ve got one, you’re…”  
“I’m dead? Is that what you’re gonna say? That’s original!”  
“Don’t worry, Way, I won’t kill you, I can keep you alive for hours.”  
“For someone who thinks I’m wearing a wire, you’ve got a lot to say for yourself,” Gerard snapped, trying hard to pull away.  
Bob shook his head and laughed. “Nah! You’re clear, there’s nothing under your shirt and let’s face facts, nothing could hide in those pants.”  
Gerard looked down, averting his eyes from everyone; the reference was far too personal.

  
“So,” Frank laughed, “just an attitude then? Oh and to answer your earlier question… actually, I think Ray should field this one.”

  
Ray nodded with a smile as he closed the laptop.

  
“Just finished,” he confirmed.  
“Finished what?” Gerard asked with a great deal of uncertainty in his voice.  
“I’ve overridden the signal that gives the vault and locks the time of day. They now think it’s eight-forty and business as usual.You can open up the bank, the vault, everything and it won’t register as a problem. There’s just the mini-vault that’s on a separate system that’s not time-dependant, but Bob’s got that under control, haven’t you?”  
Bob smiled. “Everything’s ready.”

Gerard frowned in defeat and turned his eyes away. They had a way of getting in to the bank, even to the main and small vaults.It hadn’t taken long to get to the bank, certainly no more than ten minutes. It could be another hour minutes before the police even arrived at Gerard’s apartment and perhaps a few more minutes until they realised that he was no longer there. Another ten minutes to get to the bank. It was going to be some considerable time before they arrived.

Frank really had thought of everything, or, he at least believed he had. Gerard smiled faintly as he considered the trap set for them in the vault room, grateful that they had believed him about the bunker security. There was, indeed, a bunker built for the purpose he described, but it wasn’t protected by anything more elaborate than a pass key. He was surprised that Frank, of all people, had not realised that in the event of complete destruction, an electrically operated door would be useless. It was a risky lie; his life had depended on them believing him, but they had and they would pay for it.


	17. Everything goes to plan - but whose plan?

Stepping out of the car, Frank paused as if something had suddenly occurred to him. Shooting a quick glance at Gerard as he was pulled from the car, he frowned deeply and nodded to Ray.  
Gerard gasped in surprise as he was once again pushed back inside his car. Mikey’s head turned in surprise at the sound and as Frank slammed the door on his side, Mikey wondered what was happening – what on Earth had Gerard done to annoy them this time?

“So,” Frank began, as he eyed Gerard coldly. “Tell me again about the bunker.”

Gerard felt the heat of panic rush through him as Frank voiced his concerns.

“I…” Gerard paused as Ray returned to the passenger seat and eyed him with suspicion.

Gerard was lost for words; with no real clue as to what Frank was alluding to, he was reluctant to say anything that might, potentially, work against him.

“A security code on a nuclear bunker?” Frank scowled, angry with himself that he had almost missed the unlikely explanation.

Gerard’s fears were realised; he had to think fast. The only way to get out of this, he believed, was to act dumb and pretend it had never even occurred to him.

“What about it?” he asked managing to force a puzzled expression.  
“An electricity powered door code?” Frank half asked, half stated.  
“I… er… oh…” Gerard stammered convincingly. “I never thought about it before.”  
“Really?” Frank frowned.  
“I’ve never needed to,” Gerard shrugged his shoulders, “it’s not like I give it that much thought.”

Frank narrowed his eyes as he gave the reply some thought. Was it conceivable that he had never even considered how ridiculous it sounded?

“I guess they added the code lock later,” Gerard offered, suddenly thinking of a plausible reason. “After the Cold War ended. So they could use it as an extra vault or storage area, maybe?”

Frank’s expression softened. Gerard’s reaction had seemed genuine enough and the whole story put together now sounded quite reasonable.

“Okay,” he nodded, glancing at his watch, frowning as he realised that a few more precious minutes had been lost. “Let’s go.”

*

With all the security systems now switched off, thanks to Ray’s programme override of the time sensors, accessing the bank was a simple matter of unlocking the door, just as Gerard would do every morning. Keeping Gerard and Mikey ahead of them, but under close guard, the three thieves slipped inside and closed the door.  
Entering through the staff entrance, the five men found themselves standing in the corridor leading to the back offices, staff room and kitchen. Even here, security cameras would normally sweep the area, but on turning his eyes up to the security camera high on the wall, Ray smiled with satisfaction as he saw that it was static with the operating light clearly not illuminated.

“Good job, Ray,” Frank congratulated him and flashed him a broad grin, “as ever.”

Ray accepted the praise graciously with a brief smile and followed Frank as he pushed Gerard towards the vault room. Mikey followed silently and easily with Bob bringing up the rear.

Mikey knew that Frank was asserting his control over Gerard to press the point and to keep him in line, and Gerard, being Gerard, was fighting him at every step. It was painful to watch, but Gerard was being exceptionally stubborn and it seemed that he was on a mission to self-destruct. All he could do was hope that Gerard would realise that his brother had the greater level of experience dealing with these men and defer to him. As it was, Frank was growing angrier with each passing minute. Mikey stared at Frank before realising he had been watching him all along. His brow furrowed as he realised what he had been doing and wondered if anyone else had noticed. He knew Frank would have an explanation as to why he thought Mikey had been staring, and he knew it wasn’t true. There was a much simpler explanation than the one Frank would believe. There was, he knew there was, there must be. Wasn’t there?  
Mikey pulled himself from his daydream as he realised they had entered the vault room. Finally focussing on what was happening, he noticed that Frank had caught him staring and offered a shy smile; gentle, unassuming and demure. Mikey averted his eyes and stared intently at the floor, surprised and despite the consideration he had given the matter, embarrassed and a little unnerved. Was Frank right? No. Mikey almost shook his head as if to convince himself. He was concerned though. Worried. As much as he wanted to be freed or escape, he didn’t want Frank to be arrested. Of course this made no sense. Or, at least, it shouldn’t have made sense. The confusing contradictions he felt ate away at his confidence and certainty. Right now, the only thing Mikey knew for sure was that he was uncertain.

*

Frank looked admiringly, almost lovingly, at the huge bank vault door. He had seen a great many of these in the past few years and none had ever presented them with any real problems. Usually Bob was the mastermind behind opening the vaults thanks to his expertise with plastic explosives, but today the task of opening the door itself could have gone to a small child, thanks to Ray’s override of the time delay programme. By shifting the apparent time forward twelve hours, the vault was now behaving as if it were nine o’clock in the morning. Now it was a simple matter of entering the code provided by Gerard in his daily email.

Despite having memorised it, Frank glanced at the paper in his hands momentarily before typing the ten-digit code onto the keypad with his gloved hand. Immediately, a slight whirring sound permeated through the room, followed by the distinct sound of metal sliding against metal as thick steel bolts slid from their housing. Even Frank knew, before Bob even mentioned it, that without the codes and Ray’s computer trickery, this particular vault would have been a difficult one to blow and, on this occasion, Bob was grateful to leave it to Ray and Frank.

Frank stepped to one side as the vault door almost seemed to pop open an inch or two, before drifting fully open under the power of the built-in hydraulic system. As the door became fully open, Frank smiled as a steel-barred gate that covered the entrance behind the main door, glided back, leaving the vault open and ready to plunder.

Immediately within view was the miniature vault that held the jewels that they had planned to steal. Frank’s breathing quickened as he realised how close they were. He checked his watch again; he knew Gerard had involved the police and he also knew that, despite them being ahead of schedule, it wouldn’t be long before they arrived.

Bob stepped forward as he sensed Frank’s desire for haste. Gently drawing the small device from his pocket, Bob inserted a wire into the front panel. The other end finished with a circular felt pad coated with a thin film of plastic designed to cling to the small steel door of the miniature vault.

“What’s that?” Gerard asked sharply as Bob carefully placed the pad over the lock.  
Standing behind him, Mikey’s shoulders sagged and he stepped forward so that he stood at his side.  
“Gee, what are you doing?” he whispered urgently.  
“I want to know what he’s doing,” Gerard answered, his voice lowered but still loud enough to hear.  
“You’re just getting them angry, can’t you see that? You’re gonna get yourself hurt.”  
“Well, maybe I’m not prepared to just stand back and let them use me,” he replied angrily.  
Mikey pursed his lips as he considered a reply.  
“I’m sorry, Mikes,” Gerard quickly added, “I didn’t mean that how it came out.”  
“You think I want to be standing here, handcuffed? You think I asked to be kidnapped?”  
“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I didn’t mean that.”  
“But you think I’m letting them use me?”  
“Well,” Gerard looked away, briefly, “I’ve got to be honest, Mikes, I am a little confused. You seem to be helping them. They’re not gonna let us go, don’t you understand that? When they’ve finished with us, they’ll kill us… just like they killed my manager.”  
“What!”  
Mikey’s eyes widened in shock. Frank had told him that they had never killed anyone; he had seemed so genuine, Mikey had believed him without question. Now, here was his brother telling him, quite categorically, that they had killed his manager. He felt such a fool to have believed Frank, but it was clear to him now that he had said only what he wanted him to hear.

“What did you just say?” Frank approached the two brothers with an expression of angry indignation firmly fixed on his face.

Ray too had heard the comment, but had already decided to ignore him. Gerard was, in his opinion, merely trying to convince his brother than the trio were evil murderers. He knew they weren’t and the robbery was almost over, he was more than happy to let the comment go. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest what the brothers thought. But, he knew, it mattered to Frank. It would have mattered to Frank even if he hadn’t been interested in Mikey. Frank cared about that sort of thing. To him it was a matter of pride and principle. Ray moved closer to watch Bob and left him to it.

Gerard stared in return, a look of bitter loathing on his face, that was tinged with an element of sadness, as he remembered how his secretary loved the man they had killed.

“He said you killed his manager.”

Frank turned to stare impassively at Mikey, blindsided by his acute distress at what he had just heard. For a moment or two it seemed as though Frank’s mind had gone as blank as his expression. Mikey was angry, he was shocked, but worst of all, he sounded hurt. He appeared as though Frank had run him through with a sword. Frank was crushed.

“Mikey, I told you, I’ve never killed anyone!”

The statement drew Bob’s attention and he turned an incredulous expression towards Frank and the two brothers. He simply couldn’t believe the admission Frank had just made to their hostages.  
“I told you, didn’t I?” Ray whispered.  
“Sorry, Ray,” Bob frowned, turning back to the small vault. “I thought you were exaggerating.”  
“No, not even a little bit.”  
Bob chuckled to himself to Ray’s surprise.  
“He’s got it bad this time.”  
“Bob, this isn’t funny!” Ray insisted, keeping his voice low. “His little crush is going to get us arrested!”  
Bob shook his head. “Give him some credit, Ray. This is Frank we’re talking about.”  
Ray frowned, still unconvinced but willing to be proved wrong.  
“Frank!” Bob called. “It’s ready.”

Frank glanced over his shoulder. Part of him was keen to see the fruits of their labours but, right now, the better part of him wanted to prove to Mikey that Gerard was lying to him. Taking a deep breath, Frank reset his priorities. They had to get out before the police arrived. Mikey could be convinced later, right now it was time to open the vault.

“Okay, Bob,” Frank turned and headed over to where Ray and Bob stood. “Open her up.”  
Bob set the code on the device and pressed enter. The smallest of clicks and the door opened a fraction of a inch.  
Frank smiled as Bob reached up to open the door.  
“It’s empty!”

As he spoke, the sound of metal on metal filled the otherwise silent room. Frank spun just as the steel barred gate whisked past his eyes and clanged shut sealing them inside the vault.  
Stepping forward, the empty vault forgotten, Frank gripped the bars, his eyes wide with shock as Gerard’s mouth spread into a self-satisfied smirk.

“Ray!” the panic in Frank’s voice was evident. “Get us out of here!”  
“You can’t!” Gerard announced. “The code on the lock has been programmed to reset itself every two seconds. By the time you work it out, it’ll have changed. It won’t be long before the police get here. You’re going to prison, Iero!”


	18. Mikey makes a startling announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything is what it seems and everyone learns this in different ways

“This must be the other code I picked up,” Ray announced as he and Bob joined Frank at the bars.  
“Yeah, you’re damn smart after the event, aren’t you,” Gerard laughed.  
“So much for you supposedly hating your job!” Frank retorted. “You were quick to protect the very thing that you say you hate.”  
“No, I did this to protect me and Mikey! First to get Mikes away from you and second there was no way I was going to risk ending up in prison because of them thinking I was helping you.”  
“I thought you’d never come across an innocent man jailed!”  
“I didn’t want to be the first!” Gerard snapped back, unaware that almost the exact same thing had happened to Frank.

Frank ran his hand through his hair; he had mere minutes to think of a way out. Otherwise, the police would arrive and it would all be over. He glanced guiltily at Bob; this was to be his last job before trying again to find his abused son. He was pale and scared, if they were arrested, there was no chance he’d even be allowed to see his son again, let alone get custody of him.

“Bob,” he said urgently, “will that gadget open the lock?”  
Bob shook his head. “It’s for mechanical locks, not electric. Sorry, Frank.”  
“Damn it! Ray,” Frank turned to face his obviously scared associate, “try anyway.”

Frank looked beyond the bars to where the brothers still stood. He was out of options; with no explosive to blow the lock, they were trapped unless Ray could somehow manage to programme something to beat the timing between code changes. As Frank looked out from within the vault, pale and fearful, only Gerard faced him now; Mikey had turned away.

“You might well look scared, Iero,” Gerard crowed, “and you should get used to those bars too. Attempted robbery, kidnapping, murder? I’d say that was life without chance of parole, wouldn’t you?”  
“We haven’t murdered anyone!” Frank insisted.  
“Nice try, but haven’t you forgotten my manager? You tampered with his car.”  
“What are you talking about?” Frank cried in frustration. “We didn’t touch his car, we just broke his leg so he couldn’t go to work.”

Mikey turned back; could Frank be telling the truth? But surely Gerard wouldn’t lie about that. They couldn’t both be right, but they could both think they were right; his experience in court had taught him that.

“What did you do?” Mikey asked quietly.

Frank turned his eyes towards Mikey before lowering them briefly. What he would admit to wouldn’t make him look good, but it would at least show him that he wasn’t a murderer

“Leave it, Mikey, don’t let him bother you any more, you’re safe now,” Gerard spoke softly and comfortingly.  
“You really care about him, don’t you?” Frank said with a faint smile on his face.

Gerard frowned, puzzled by the comment; of all things he expected Frank to say, that was not it.

“What did you do?” Mikey repeated, taking a few steps closer to the bars.  
“I had your brother’s phone bugged for weeks; his and his manager. As soon as I heard you were coming to visit, I arranged for an attack on the bank manager. We broke his leg, it wasn’t smashed or anything really bad, just enough to keep him off work for a few days. Then, when Gerard had to cancel his vacation and he went into work, we kidnapped you.”  
“Liar!” Gerard snapped venomously. “You tampered with his car! He crashed on the way into work! You told me that yourself!”  
“No I didn’t!” Frank cried, astonished by the accusation. “I just told you he’d had an accident.”  
“Yeah, his car.”  
“I didn’t say anything about a car!”  
“Gee,” Mikey cut in, “who told you about the manager’s car accident?”  
“His wife called. She was already at work on an early shift when she found out and went to the hospital.”  
“Did anyone say his car had been tampered with?” Mikey asked. “Or did you just assume when Frank mentioned the accident?”  
“Don’t play lawyer with me, Mikey! Why are you defending these people?” Gerard replied, confused by Mikey’s behaviour.  
“Isn’t it possible he tried to drive himself to the hospital, not realising how bad it was and he crashed?”  
Gerard shook his head in bewilderment. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you want them locked up for what they’ve done to you?”  
Mikey paused for a few moments; he surprised even himself that he was considering the question.  
“No,” he finally replied, much to everyone’s surprise. “Gee, it’s not that straightforward. Let them go, please?”  
“What?!” Gerard’s face twisted in confusion as his brother said the very last thing he expected him to.  
“Please, Gee, they’re not all bad, there’s so much you don’t know.”

Gerard shook his head in disbelief.

“What are you talking about? Oh, yeah, I know! This is that… that thing where people sympathise with their kidnappers and end up liking them.”  
“Stockholm Syndrome,” Mikey replied with a small shake of his head.  
“That’s it! That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Gerard looked pained. “Mikes, it’s a recognised reaction, but that’s all it is. These guys kidnapped you and beat you up! They threatened to kill you Mikes! You can’t really like them.”  
“I… I know and yes, I have grown to like them… I…”

Mikey turned to look at Frank, watching silently from behind the bars, engrossed in the conversation, realising that Gerard’s behaviour was born of filial love and concern. Now he noticed Mikey staring at him and he returned the gaze with a faint smile.

“I don’t understand you, Mikey,” Gerard stated shaking his head.  
“You don’t have to. Can you open that gate?”  
“What? No!” Gerard pulled at the cuffs behind his back in frustration, wishing he could simply grab Mikey and drag him from the vault room. As far as he was concerned, Mikey had suffered a terrible trauma leaving him confused and disturbed.  
“Please, Gee! You don’t understand!”  
“You’re damn right I don’t understand!”

As the last few exchanges were taking place, Ray was making something of a breakthrough.  
“Bob!” Ray called quietly from where he sat cross-legged on the floor near the wall. “I need your help.  
“What is it?” he asked dropping to one knee at Ray’s side.  
“I’ve managed to override the code changing and I’ve got the code to open it, but I need you here to get out as soon as it opens and stop them making a break for it.”  
“He’s a fool to have stayed.”  
Ray glanced up and smiled. “Well, he thought he was safe, didn’t he?”  
“Okay, I’m ready, open it.”

Frank turned his head sharply as the barred gate started to move and he saw Bob poised to run out as soon as the gate had pulled back far enough. The sudden movement took Gerard by surprise and he turned urgently to face his brother.

“Mikey!” he called, nodding toward the door. But by the time he looked back, Bob was at his side, seizing his arms. Struggling in the ex-soldier’s vice-like grip, Gerard was astonished by how strong he was and no longer surprised at how Mikey was overcome by him.  
“No!” Frank yelled, stepping forward to join them. “Don’t hurt him.”  
“After what he’s done?” Bob replied incredulously.  
“We still need him,” Frank explained with a slight shake of his head.  
“Why?”

From beyond the vault room, almost as if on cue, they heard a man shout from beyond the vault room.  
“Mister Way, are you safe in there?”  
“Don’t come in!” Mikey shouted. “They’ll kill us.”  
“What the…”  
Gerard was perplexed by the reply, but cut short as Bob clamped his hand over his mouth. Unlike Ray, Bob knew the right technique and not only was Gerard silenced, but he was held firm and unable to struggle.  
“Who is this?” yelled the man outside.  
“Mikey Way,” he called back; hearing a quieter voice say ‘the brother’.  
“If even your shadow comes this way, we’ll blow his head off!” Frank shouted convincingly.  
“There’s no way you can escape,” the man replied.  
“Oh, I think you’re gonna just let us walk out of here, or there’ll be a lot of blood on these walls.”  
Frank turned to Mikey and shrugged playfully.  
“Tell them to bring a car to the door and get right back. Mikey…” Frank began hesitantly. “Why are you helping us?”  
“Because I was right all along,” he replied with a faint smile.  
“About what?” Frank asked bewildered.  
“You’re not a bad man.”

Gerard felt Bob’s grip on him relax and he pulled with all his strength to get free. Finally breaking from his grip, Gerard headed quickly for the door. As he appeared in the corridor a single shot rang out and he slumped immediately, dropping to the floor, crumpled against the wall.

“Gerard!” Mikey cried rushing forward only to be held back by Bob.  
“Let me go!” Mikey struggled furiously, tears forming in his eyes as he stared terrified at the unmoving form of his brother. “They shot Gee! Let me go!”

Frank quickly moved past Bob and the struggling Mikey.

“Hold him,” he ordered as he past.  
“I’m trying to! It’s like trying to keep hold of a rabid puppy!” Bob replied in frustration.

As Frank reached the door, not daring to step beyond, he stared long and hard at Gerard; finally sighing with relief as he saw him move and groan.

“Way to go, dumb ass!” he shouted to the gathered police. “You shot the guy who tipped you off! Now, I’ll tell you what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna move back, slowly but you’re gonna get right out of this bank and bring a fully fuelled car to the door. I have access to all the security cameras in here and if I see even one of you in here after two minutes, I’m going to finish the job. Okay?”

Frank was met with total silence.

“I said, okay?”  
“Check the cameras, we’re pulling back now,” came the reply.  
Frank turned to look at Ray. “Ray, any chance you could…” he began in a whisper.  
“Already on it, Frank,”  
“Bob, he’s okay, I think it’s skimmed his leg. Do you think you could fix him up?”  
Bob nodded as Mikey stopped struggling. Realising that Gerard was alive and only slightly hurt was good news in itself, but knowing that they cared that he was looked after only served to confirm in his own mind that they were worth saving too. They would all have to use all of their talents and skills to get out of this one, but Mikey found himself smiling as he thought about the challenge ahead.


	19. Escape?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiding in the vault's bunker - can the guys escape?

“Okay,” Ray said finally looking up from his laptop, “they’ve cleared out.”  
“Definitely? All of them? No one hiding?”  
Ray grinned and nodded. “That’s the beauty of these security systems, they’re specifically designed to ensure that there are no blind spots. Even the areas underneath the cameras are covered by another. It’s clear, Frank, no question.”

Frank smiled. That’s what he liked about Ray; the man had serious talent but was never egotistical. Not once had he ever said anything like ‘don’t you trust me?’ or ‘I know what I’m doing!’. He always explained for the benefit of Frank and Bob who, while being talented in their own fields, understood little about computing.

“Bob, can you help me, please,” Frank turned as he spoke, realising as he did that Bob still had his hands full with Mikey. He was no longer struggling, but it still looked as though Bob had to use a lot of his strength to restrain him.  
Bob nodded to Mikey. “What do I do with him?”  
“Let go of me and let me help!” Mikey replied frustrated at his inability to break free from his grip.  
Frank nodded briefly. “Take his cuffs off.”  
“Frank? Are you sure?” Ray asked, standing to remove the key from his pocket.  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded as he realised that he felt he could trust Mikey not to make a bid for freedom or try to attack them. It wasn’t even because they had his brother lying on the ground, shot, unable to go with him. Frank genuinely trusted him.

Turning the small key in the locks, Ray released Mikey from the handcuffs. Finally able to move his hands after what had felt like an eternity, Mikey hoped that this period of being free of the cuffs would last a lot longer than the last. Moving immediately towards the door, through which Gerard lay still bleeding, Frank stopped him within inches of the door itself.

“What? I just want to help Gerard! I’m not trying to escape!” he yelled angrily trying to shove Frank out of the way, only to be grabbed and held by Bob once more.  
“Ray, check the cameras again, please,” Frank asked with caution in his tone.

Kneeling at the laptop, Ray flicked through all of the camera views, stopping on the one that showed the corridor leading up to the vault room. At the very end, his weapon trained on a spot roughly four feet above where Gerard lay, a police marksman stood pressed against the wall, almost hidden by the darkness.  
Nodding, Ray admired Frank’s foresight to check again for anyone returning. Showing Frank, Mikey and Bob the screen, Ray silently pointed to where the man was standing in wait.

“Mikey,” Frank turned to him asking the question in a hushed whisper, “are you really helping us?”  
“Yeah,” Mikey nodded his head with assurance. “I am.”

Frank desperately wanted to ask why, but he knew there simply wasn’t time.

“I’m going to insist they get out and stay out, but I made a threat of what I’d do if they didn’t go and I have to carry it out for then to take us seriously.”

Mikey’s eyes widened in horror. Frank’s threat was to kill Gerard if they didn’t pull back. As willing as he was to help, he couldn’t allow that.

“No!” Frank whispered hoarsely and waving his hands in front of him as he realised what Mikey was thinking. “I mean, I’m going to fire a shot, into the vault so it’s safe, but I want you to scream like I just shot you. Can you do that?”  
“Yeah,” Mikey smiled, a little embarrassed to have doubted Frank once more. “I can do that.”  
“Gerard,” Frank kneeled on the floor near to the door and whispered, “I’m sorry to have left you so long. Are you okay?”  
“Yeah,” he croaked turning his head.

He wasn’t badly hurt, but the shock of it had taken its toll on him. Of course, now he realised that the shock of being shot was nothing compared to the surprise of seeing how Frank was handling the situation. He obviously cared about Mikey’s feelings and by default, at least, he cared about him. In all his dealings with him, Frank had been nothing but a controlling, almost sadistic, and determined and focussed criminal. Now, well now, he was just a guy and apparently a nice one, at that. He had assumed responsibility for the other four men in the room, be they associates or hostages. As he stared up at him, he began to see how Mikey had developed a different opinion of him and realised that Frank’s behaviour on visits to the bank and his apartment had been merely an act.

“There’s a police marksman at the end of the corridor that I’m going to have to get rid of. I’ll get you back in here as soon as I can. Bob’s had first aid training, he’ll fix you up. I’m sorry this happened to you.”  
Gerard lowered his eyes. “Thanks,” he replied, not knowing what else to say.

Getting to his feet once more, Frank yelled into the corridor.

“I told you what would happen if you didn’t get out! This is on your head!”

Turning, Frank drew his gun and aimed a shot inside the vault. Immediately, Mikey let out a chilling scream, allowing himself to drop to the floor with a convincing thud. Subsequent faltering cries and of pain followed ending with a low moaning. Frank was impressed, but Gerard was alarmed.

“Mikey!” he yelled, terrified, believing that Frank had actually shot his brother. His mind was in turmoil; confused, shocked and traumatised at the sound of the shot. Frank had appeared to care. Gerard had even begun to change his mind about him and then this! It was unfathomable. Trying to stand, Gerard was taken by surprised at the level of pain emanating from the wound and fell back instantly with a pained groan.

“He’s gone,” Ray announced, “he had a radio message and he pulled back. I followed him on the cameras, he’s outside, no one’s left.”  
“Get him in here!” Frank ordered. “Patch him up.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, both Mikey and Bob stepped into the corridor and gently helped Gerard to his feet.

“Gee, are you okay?”

Gerard turned a thoroughly confused expression towards his brother.

“But… he… what happened?”  
“It was a trick,” Mikey admitted as Gerard was almost carried between him and Bob back into the vault room. “Gee, can we trust you?”  
“We?” Gerard asked in surprise.  
“Yeah,” Mikey nodded gravely.  
“You were in on this all along?” Gerard gasped.  
“No!” Mikey replied, suddenly realising how what he had said sounded. “No, it was all very real! But, like I said before…”  
“I know,” Gerard nodded. “You want me to promise not to try to escape?”  
“Yeah,” Mikey nodded.  
“Well, my last attempt wasn’t particularly successful,” Gerard gave a small tired laugh. “I think I’m safer in here with these guys. You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”  
Mikey nodded. “I’m certain, Gee. Trust me.”

Gerard sighed. He had seen enough for his own eyes to convince him that Mikey’s trust in them had been repaid. He had no idea how it had come about, but he was finally willing to listen to his brother’s advice.

“You can trust me, I promise.”

At the words, Ray bent down and unlocked Gerard’s handcuffs. He didn’t entirely trust Gerard and whilst he felt sorry for him that he had been hurt, Ray was a little relieved that he couldn’t make any sudden moves against them now.

Frank sighed deeply. “Okay, so, we’re in here and they’re out there. I’d say we have a bit of a problem here.”

Frank could see that Bob, in particular, was scared, and the frustrating part was that he truly couldn’t see a way out. The police had already shown themselves willing to ignore their threats. Worse still, they had opened fire on Gerard without even waiting to check who he was. Ray had seen the marksman waiting for them, ready to kill and it could so easily, and would most likely, have been Mikey who had rushed to the aid of his brother. They didn’t seem too interested in discriminating between criminals and victims. The likelihood that they would be allowed simply to walk out, even with hostages, seemed very small indeed.

“Gee, this is your bank, you know it inside out,” Mikey implored. “Is there anything you can think of? Any way out of here?”

Gerard looked up at him; he couldn’t believe the irony of the situation. Mikey helping his kidnappers to escape, the fact that they cared so much about both of them, the nice work Bob had done covering the small gun shot wound on his leg. All that weighed against the fact that the police had just shot him without warning or care to establish his identity.

“I can’t believe they shot me,” he finally replied. “I kinda thought they’d be a little more careful.”  
“You told Frank you’d never seen an innocent man jailed?”  
Gerard nodded. “Yeah, so?”  
“He was innocent, he really was. He was nineteen, putting himself through college. There was a raid on the market he worked at, he tried to help, but the owner mistakenly believed he was in on it and knocked him out. He didn’t do anything wrong, Gee, but he went to prison. Just like you, you tried to stop the robbery and you end up getting shot.”  
“I didn’t try to stop the robbery, Mikes, I don’t care if they clean the place out. I just wanted the police at my place when they came so you’d be safe. I’m sorry I messed things up.”

Leaning down, Mikey gave his brother a comforting hug. He had meant well, it just hadn’t gone well.

“How do we get out, Gee?”  
“The bunker,” Gerard sighed. “It’s the only option.”

Frank stepped forward, having kept an ear on the touching conversation.

“The bunker? Won't that leave us even more cornered than we are now?”  
“I’m not trying to trap you,” Gerard said as he looked up at Frank. “You have to give me the benefit of the doubt here. I mean, whenever I saw you, you were… well I’ll just say you act tough well.”

Frank smiled at the strange compliment.

“Okay, but even if you mean well, isn’t there still a chance that…”

Frank was interrupted as two hard objects hit the wall in the corridor with a loud bang before bouncing into the vault room itself. As they rolled inside, Frank noticed the canisters lying on the floor, with a white cloud of gas pouring from each.

“Tear gas!” Frank gasped. “We’ve got no choice, do it, quickly, they’ll be in here any second.”

Mikey quickly helped Gerard to his feet as they headed to a small area at the back of the vault room. Lifting a floor panel, Gerard revealed a small hatch, quickly entered a six digit code, pulled open the thick steel door and flicked a switch to light the way down.

“Everyone in, quick,” Frank ushered Mikey, Ray and Bob into the bunker entrance, each of them dispensing with the stairs on the ladder and merely sliding down.

“Now you,” Gerard nodded, “I’ll follow and lock it.”

Frank smiled weakly, this would be the moment of truth. Either Gerard would lock them in and fetch the police or he would do as he said and follow them in. It was hard for Frank to trust a man he had threatened, but, in truth, he had little choice. Following the others into the bunker, he looked up to see what Gerard would do. Frank sighed with relief as, true to his word, Gerard followed. As he stood on the steps of the ladder and lowered the hatch, Gerard heard the sound of footsteps running towards the vault room. They had made it in time. Securing the lock, he watched momentarily as all the bolts slid back into place almost silently, before descending the ladder slowly being careful with his leg.

“What now?” asked Bob. “We’re stuck here now, we can’t even check to see if they leave.”  
“We don’t have to,” Gerard announced.  
“What do you mean?” Mikey asked, puzzled by the response.  
“There’s a second exit, it comes out in the manager’s office. Well, actually that’s the main entrance, the one in the vault room was added later because they wanted an alternative exit in case one got blocked and they thought that the vault room was more likely to withstand a blast from a bomb.”  
“So, this other exit will take us right up to your office?” Frank asked.  
“Not mine, the manager’s, but that’s just next door. Not far from the staff entrance we came in through.”  
“So, what do you suggest?”  
“I think sooner rather than later. They’ll wonder where we went and some bank official is bound to know about this.”  
“Won’t we be likely to get caught?” asked Ray suspiciously.  
Frank shrugged. “We definitely will if we stay here.”  
“It could be a trick,” Ray grumbled.

Frank drew his lips into a thin line as he considered the words.

“I don’t think so. If he wanted that, he could have just locked us in here without coming in. I trust him.”

Gerard smiled; this man had so much to lose, but was willing to accept him at his word, despite everything.

“I’ll lead the way. Mikey can you help me, please.”  
“Sure, Gee.”

Mikey stepped forward to help his brother walk.

“This isn’t a trick, is it?” he whispered.  
“No,” Gerard whispered in reply. “I’ve long since come round to your thinking.”  
Mikey smiled and gave him a squeeze. “You won’t regret this, Gee. I have an idea, and I think you’re going to like it.”


	20. Come with your arms raised high...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter - will the guys escape or be arrested

At the foot of the ladder to the main exit from the bunker, Gerard paused and held out a set of keys to Frank.  
  
“You know the way from here and you’ve got my car keys.”  
“If you’re about to suggest you’re not coming with us, then you can forget that,” Frank replied flatly.  
“Look,” Gerard shrugged, “believe it or not, I do want you guys to escape. Now I know Mikey’s okay, I’m happy. You don’t need me.”  
“We do…” Frank began before Gerard interrupted.  
“There’s no point me going with you! I’ll slow you down and it’s pretty clear that they don’t care that you have hostages. You’ll get caught and…” Gerard looked down at his feet as he steadied himself on a rung of the ladder. “I don’t want that.”  
“I know,” Frank nodded, “I heard what you said to Mikey and I understand. Let me tell you, you’ve got a lot more guts than I gave you credit for. But, you helped us back there; we’d have been arrested for sure if you hadn’t stepped in, and we look after our own.”  
  
Behind Frank, Ray and Bob were both nodding their agreement. Gerard smiled faintly; he had seriously misunderstood the three men. He had switched from despising them to respecting them, even liking them, all in the space of an hour.  
  
“If you leave me here, you’re more likely to get away. I’ll say I passed out with the pain when they find me…”  
Frank shook his head vigorously. “No, all or nothing. All or nothing…” he hesitated, “…Gee?”  
  
Gerard gave a small appreciative laugh as Frank used his familiar name. It felt so odd; so very few people ever called him that.  
  
“But isn’t it safer if…?”  
“Maybe for us,” Frank shrugged, “not for you. Maybe it’d be fine, but if when they find you, they blame and arrest you, you may never get out. If there’s one thing I know about legal matters it’s that Mikey can’t represent you.”  
“No, I'm a prosecution lawyer,” Mikey threw in.  
“Unhelpful, Mikey,” Frank cocked his head to one side. “I’m just trying to make a point here.”  
“Okay, okay, I get it and… I appreciate it. Let’s go.”  
  
Unlocking the exit door, Gerard pushed it open a fraction of an inch, relieved to see the room in darkness. Opening the door slowly so as not to attract any attention merely from the movement, Gerard led the four men through into his manager’s office.Relieved that this end of the corridor was on a separate lighting circuit, Gerard could see through a glass panel in the wall, that the corridor beyond the office was dimly lit from the lights further down the long corridor. In the dim light, he could see the movement of shadows further down the corridor and knew that the police were still nearby. They would have to wait it out.  
  
  
*  
  
  
The five men stood in absolute silence waiting for an opportunity to slip out and escape, but they had now stood there for upwards of thirty minutes and the police were still there.Under cover of darkness, so that he felt reasonably confident he would go unnoticed Gerard pressed himself against the door and peered briefly through the blind covered glass panel nestled between the door and wall, before pulling back. The police were still too close; if they were to try to escape now, they would certainly be seen.  
  
“Why won’t they go?” Ray spoke in an agitated whisper.  
“I think they’re waiting for a bank official,” Gerard frowned. “To work out where we went. That’s a problem.”  
“Why?” Bob asked. “We half expected it anyway.”  
Frank nodded. “Because when they work out where we went, they’ll know where we are now.”  
“We have to get out, and the only way is through this door,” Gerard nodded behind him.  
Frank stared hard as he considered their options. “If we wait to be found, they’ll come from both sides and we’ll be trapped. The only real option is to leave now.”

  
Glancing around at all four men, Frank quickly formulated a plan of action.

  
“Okay, Bob, I know what I said before but I think it's safer for you if you stay behind…”  
“Why?” Bob cut in, surprised at the suggestion.  
“Because we’ll probably get caught and if we do, I don’t want you with us. If you get arrested, you’ll never see your son again, let alone get custody. And you know, sooner or later, Dan’ll get taken away from her. He’ll end up in the system.”  
“Frank, I can’t leave you guys to risk getting caught. Like you said before, we look after our own.”  
“That’s what I’m doing now,” Frank replied with frustration.  
“I’m coming with you,” Bob insisted. “It’s my risk and I’m taking it.”  
“What’s your plan?” asked Ray.  
Frank shrugged. “It’s not really a plan so much as an act of desperation. We have no bargaining power if it all goes wrong.”  
  
Gerard turned and placed his hands behind him, followed by Mikey. Neither said a word, but the implication was clear as they offered themselves as hostages.  
  
“I can’t ask you to do that,” Frank shook his head. “It’s too risky, you’ve already been shot once.”  
“You didn’t ask,” Gerard corrected. “Put them on, and quick, we have to make a move before they find us.”  
“Thank you,” Frank nodded his appreciation.  
  
As he finished placing the cuffs on Gerard’s hands, he moved to Mikey. He felt guilty, Mikey was helping them escape and he had treated him so badly. The last thing he wanted to do was handcuff him again. As he closed the steel circles around Mikey’s slender wrists, he felt the need to apologise.  
  
“I’m really sorry, Mikey, these will come off and stay off soon.”  
  
Mikey reached with his fingers and taking Frank’s still lingering hand, gave a gentle squeeze.  
  
“It’s okay, Frank,” he added glancing over his shoulder.  
  
Stepping back, Frank tried hard not to react to the unexpected response, a moment of gentle intimacy. Mikey had made it clear to him that he was not interested, but this felt different. Had he imagined it? Would Mikey play with his feelings like that? He had to put everything aside, he had to stay focussed if they were to stand a chance of escape. If only they could distract the police somehow. He pictured how they usually did it in the movies. Someone would throw a stone in the opposite direction that they were heading and fool the pursuers. But of course, that wasn’t an option. Or was it?  
  
“Ray,” he whispered urgently, “can you make the gate in the vault room close again and simultaneously shut off the lights?”  
“Lights?” Ray frowned as he opened his laptop once more. “Give me a minute.”  
  
As Ray worked, Gerard moved towards the door as he heard a voice he recognised.  
“The Regional Manager’s here,” he hissed. “He’ll know about the bunker and where we are.”  
“Yes,” Ray announced, “I can do it.”  
“Now.”  
  
Further up the corridor the police heard a loud clang as the gate slammed shut and immediately the area was plunged into pitch darkness.  
  
“They’re still in there! You, get him out of here, the rest of you, with me!”  
  
Frank’s eyes lit up as he heard the sound of many footsteps racing towards the vault room. Opening the door a crack, Frank peered out into the corridor, his heart leaping with relief as he found it empty. Placing a finger to his lips, he indicated for all to be silent as they crept as fast as they dared from the room. Opening the staff entrance door, Frank led them all into the cold night air. Moving silently, the five men kept close to the wall and in the shadows, darting down a few small streets until they reached the main road and far enough from the bank not to be noticed. Quickly, Frank released the two brothers from their handcuffs.  
  
“We’ll split up, meet at my place, yes? Mikey, do you remember how to get there?”  
“Yeah,” he nodded.  
“Good, see you in, what... about an hour?”  
  
Each of them exchanged nods and hopeful glances. Heading off on his own, Frank glanced back as Bob and Ray crossed the road and Gerard and Mikey walked briskly in the opposite direction.  
  
“What do I do, Mikey?” Gerard asked his brother. “I don’t want to go back, but I can’t not go back. They’re bound to want to know what happened and what if Frank’s right, what if they realise I helped them?”  
“I told you, I have an idea. Trust me.”  
  
*  
  
Frank paced in the kitchen of his house; no one had arrived yet and he was getting worried. He poured himself a drink and hoped it would steady his nerves; but he was hoping for too much. Nothing like this had ever happened before, they were so careful, but deep down, Frank knew it had been a mistake to involve outsiders. He desperately wanted a last great job that would set them up for life. He knew the day was coming when Bob would quit. He didn’t know much about his son, Bob was pretty private about it, but he knew it ate him away inside that he couldn’t be with him and it was only a matter of time before he gathered up the courage to get custody of him. That time was now, and, assuming they hadn’t already been caught, that would be the end of their group.He felt reasonably confident that the police couldn’t trace anything back to them, despite the failure of the operation, they had still been very careful not to leave any evidence behind. The only possible cause of their arrest now, would be Gerard and Mikey letting the police know where to find them. He tried desperately to push the idea to the back of his mind but he knew it was still a risk. He knew that they could easily have handed them over to the police in the bank, but, given that Gerard had been shot, it was much less of a risk for them to escape and then just supply the address, knowing they would all be there. Taking another sip, Frank refused to listen to his worried thoughts.  
  
The first to arrive were Ray and Bob, overjoyed to have been so close to arrest and still escaped. Frank tried to celebrate with them, but it wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t be happy until Gerard and Mikey arrived. If they arrived.  
  
The doorbell rang again and Frank sighed with relief, but his relief was short lived as he opened the door to two police officers. He stood frozen to the spot, unable to move or speak, but most of all, unable to believe that Mikey had done this.  
  
“Sorry to disturb you so late, Sir,” one of them began politely, much to Frank’s surprise. “There’s been a burglary in this apartment block this evening. Did you hear or see anything unusual?”  
“Er... no, sorry Officer, I didn't. I went out with some friends. We've only just got back. Sorry, I must admit, you had me worried for a moment.”  
The police officer nodded. “Common reaction, sir, most people think we’ve come with bad news for them.”  
Frank nodded and sighed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought.”  
  
Closing the door, Frank barely had time to step away before the doorbell rang again.Turning back, he opened it to reveal Gerard and Mikey.  
  
“What did they want?” asked Mikey urgently.  
“Local burglary, just asking for witnesses,” Frank replied as he ushered them in.  
“That’s a relief,” Mikey replied with a smile. “Frank, can I talk to you?”  
“Sure,” Frank replied as he headed towards the living room only to be pulled up sharply as a hand grabbed his shirt.  
“Privately.”  
“Uh… yeah. Gee, would you mind going ahead? Bob and Ray are in there, help yourself to anything you want.”  
  
Waiting until Gerard had closed the door to the living room, Frank turned to Mikey with a worried expression.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Mikey looked down at his feet. Now the opportunity had come, he wasn’t sure what to say.  
  
“Mikey? Are you okay? If you’re worried about Gee’s leg, we can…”  
“No, it’s not that,” Mikey pushed his hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About why I was a bit, well, absent from my relationship with Leanne and, if I’m honest, all the women I’ve dated.”  
“And?” Frank asked, making no assumptions as to his conclusion.  
“You might be right,” he replied looking back to his feet. “But now, I’m a little confused.”  
“You need someone to guide you?” Frank asked extending a hand to take one of his.  
“I know you like me, I’m not going to use you.”  
“Then let me ask…” Frank paused. “Do you like me?”  
  
Mikey’s worried and uncertain expression broke into a smile.  
  
“Then you’re not using me,” Frank reassured him.   
"But what if it turns out that I'm not... I mean, it could just have been the people I dated weren't right for me. I don't want to hurt you."  
"I know," Frank smiled. "And if you're not, then we're still friends. Deal?"

Mikey appeared briefly as if his eyes were glistening with welling tears. This dear man was willing to offer him so much. Even if it only ever amounted to friendship he would consider himself very lucky.

“Now come on, we’ve got to salvage what we can from the mess we’re in.”  
  
Mikey took a deep breath and followed him to the living room where everyone had now gathered.  
  
“Okay,” Frank began. “I guess this is it. Bob, you’re going to get custody of Dan, perhaps Mikey can recommend a lawyer? And…”  
“I can do better than that,” Mikey cut in. “Bob, to get custody of Dan, you’re going to need a decently paid job.”  
“Who’s going to employ an ex-con?” he grumbled.  
“Me,” Mikey announced, “I’m going to employ you. But it has to be all of you.”  
  
Mikey was met by a series of puzzled stares.  
  
“Go on,” Frank encouraged.  
“I’m suggesting a technically legal partnership. Frank, you have a lot of contacts who have bought things from you or hired you in the past, yes?”  
“Yeah, dozens.”  
“And, I’m willing to bet that, from time to time, they all need legal services, from tax, to property, to divorce, and even criminal.”  
  
Frank nodded with a smile as he began to see what Mikey was suggesting.  
  
“Okay, so I’m thinking that we approach your contacts and suggest that they use our legal services, for higher than usual fees, with the added bonus of absolute discretion. You have the contacts; I can handle legal; Gerard the financial side; Ray the computing and Bob would be…”  
“Yeah, I know, the muscle,” he replied flatly.  
“I prefer to call it, Client Management,” Mikey replied with a wry smile. “What do you think?”  
Frank grinned. “It’s well paid, basically legal and it keeps us all together. I like it.”  
“I think after that last experience, I’m ready to take a step into something legal,” Ray agreed as he and Bob rose to their feet to stand next to Frank.  
“I’ll do it, and not just because it’ll help get Dan back,” Bob added.  
“Mikey, you know I hate my job. I’m definitely in!” Gerard grinned. “You said I’d like your idea!”  
“So,” Mikey began with a broad smile as he offered his hand to Frank who took it immediately, followed by Gerard, Ray and Bob. “I think we should celebrate, don't you?”  
  
  


**The End...?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the end - All's well and Mikey's kept them all together! Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! Sas xo


End file.
